Brave
by FadingSlowly
Summary: Brave – adj – Defintion: bold. Synonyms: adventurous, audacious, chivalrous, confident, courageous, daring, dashing, dauntless, defiant, fearless, heroic, indomitable, intrepid, reckless, spirited, strong, valiant. Antonym: Kim Winters. CANON. Rewrite of Phased, Sequel of Fallible.
1. WONDERFULLY GIFTED STUDENTS

**Disclaimer: I hold no ownership rights of Twilight. Anything original does belong to me, however.**

**Author's Note: This is technically a rewrite of Phased, but done in the style of my Emily & Sam fic, Fallible. It's somewhat a sequel, but both stories can stand alone. There is a lot of content that is brand new here, so if you liked Phased, I strongly suggest you read this one, as well. After this is complete, I will be deleting Phased from this site.**

**Also, on the subject of Kim's and Jared's last names: I'm aware that Stephenie Meyer never officially made last names for them, as they are minor characters, but I'm starting to see in a lot of fanfics that the popular last names seem to be Thail and Connweller, so those are the names I'm just going to go with. I want to say that I disclaim the names and I most certainly didn't come up with them, so don't anyone sue me, please!**

**Thanks and happy reading!**

* * *

**01 – WONDERFULLY GIFTED STUDENTS – 01**

"_So, wait, let me get this straight… You're telling me that for every single triangle in the world, the angles add up to one-sixty de – "_

" – _one-hundred eighty – "_

"_Right. One-hundred _eighty_ degrees? That's pretty wild."_

_He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I can't contain my laughter anymore. Watching me, he makes another silly face before succumbing to laughter himself._

"_It actually makes a lot of sense when you think about it," I say, struggling to get control of myself. I look away from him, which is hard to do, given the attractiveness factor, and back to his paper. "Triangles only have three sides. So if one of the angles is obtuse, the other two have to be acute. It's the same if one of the angles is ninety degrees. The other two have to be acute."_

"_You're pretty acute, yourself," he says, teasingly._

_I blush, and pretend to ignore him. Do not look up, Kimmy! I tell myself. That's how he'll get you. He doesn't mean it, doesn't know what he's saying. He's just a –_

"_Kimberly?"_

_My eyes betray me and I look up in spite of myself. He's staring at me now, all traces of joking erased. My heartbeat quickens._

"_Y-Yes?" I stutter, only causing myself to blush more._

"_I mean it. You're more than cute. You're beautiful."_

_Jared._

_In an incredibly dramatic gesture – perhaps too much for the situation – he sweeps all of our books and notes off of my kitchen table. Then, he leans his large, muscular body over and reaches one hand out to cup my cheek. Slowly, like a scene from a movie, he leans down, so close now I can feel his breath across my face. I stop breathing._

_I've been waiting for this. I've been waiting my entire life for this moment, and although I couldn't be more thrilled that it's happening, it sucks that it's happening from such an awkward angle –_

* * *

"… angle A, Kimberly?"

I lift my head quickly in a jerking motion, making unnecessary noise. The clutter gathered on my desk scatters in all directions. I watch in dismay and embarrassment as my pencil goes sliding in one direction and a few sheets of blank paper in another. The girl in front of me, Sarah, reaches down to retrieve the paper while the boy behind me, Nathan, taps me on the shoulder to hand me my pencil.

"Kimberly?" I can feel Mr. Mendoza's and everyone else's eyes on me. My heart pounds rapidly and I stare at my desk, hoping that if I just ignore him, he'll go away.

But he's not going away. He's still standing there while the seconds tick away feeling like minutes. Behind me, Nathan gives up trying to hand my pencil back, and in front of me, Sarah actually tips her chair far back enough to deposit the fallen papers on my desk.

Desperately, I scan the board, and hope that I don't make a further idiot of myself. To my horror, I can feel my eyes welling up with tears, even as I locate the math problem he's probably asking me about.

"The angles of a triangle always add up to one-hundred eighty degrees," I whisper, mortified as my voice cracks and a single tear slips down my cheek. "It's equilateral, so each angle is sixty degrees."

I want to run out of the room, but I'm frozen, paralyzed with fear and humiliation.

Mr. Mendoza sighs. "Thank you, Kimberly. Jared, can you help us out with the next one?"

As if the torture isn't bad enough already, my heart skips a beat when he says Jared's name. _Jared Thail_, the object of my affections, sits either one seat to my right or one seat in front of me in every class we have together because I lost a bet with my best friend, Jamie, and had to take a dare.

Normally, I would have jumped for joy at the sheer luck that he didn't notice when I played 'musical chairs' in every class, but when things like this happen, it makes me want to sink through the floor. And since I cry every time I'm put on the spot, that would pretty much put my permanent residence somewhere in the school's boiler room.

"I don't know. Sorry," Jared says in a clipped voice, causing me to start again. This time I almost knock my textbook onto the floor, but luckily my reflexes are good enough so that I catch it. It still causes a disruption, however, and I hear someone giggle, which only serves to bring about a fresh round of tears for me.

'Chronically shy,' is what my mother calls it.

I feel incredibly pathetic, and I can feel eyes on me that I wish weren't there. I wonder if it's too late to fake sick and get out of class. But no, it would be totally obvious I'm faking, and honestly, I'm too petrified to even stand up right now and call more attention to myself. I sit frozen and stare at my desk instead.

Mr. Mendoza sighs again. "Class, could you please turn to chapter thirteen? It seems we might need to review a little bit more before the quiz on Thursday."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Mendoza approaching mine and Jared's desks. _Oh, God. Please don't let him say anything else to embarrass me in front of Jared._

"Could you two please see me after class?" he says in a low voice, and again, my heart jumps. He wants to see me? Me _and_ Jared?

"'Whatever," Jared mutters, and I'm so stunned that I almost forget to nod, as I'm still unable and unwilling to form speech. Mr. Mendoza seems to hesitate before he walks away and I don't blame him. Jared is always polite to everyone, teachers and students alike. I've never heard him give a flippant answer like that, ever. I wonder if he's having a bad day, or more accurately, a bad week. He's been acting strange and moody for a few days now.

I lower my head back down to the desk, but I don't look at Jared. Mr. Mendoza returns to the board to go over what I assume is chapter thirteen. I know it's self-destructive, but I'm feeling more than a little resentful towards him for my embarrassment and for annoying Jared, so in a silent act of rebellion I don't open my book, and he doesn't call on either of us for the rest of the class period.

"You're both wonderfully, gifted students, and it's been a joy having you both in my class," Mr. Mendoza says with a warm smile. "Truthfully. Unfortunately, you both have several things you could work on, and I'm beginning to wonder if summer school might hold the answers."

I freeze again. Summer school? What? He's joking, right?

"Summer school," Mr. Mendoza repeats, triumphantly. "Jared, you've been a model student up until just recently, and I don't want to see your GPA drop. Kim, you as well. I hear that you excel in your writing class. I'm thinking that if you were both in a smaller, more concentrated class, you two could help each other. Maybe working with someone one-on-one Kim, could give you a bit of a boost when it comes to speaking up in class."

He looks at each of us in turn. "What do you think?"

I can feel myself burning up, and I know I must be bright red from head to toe, but I make myself nod. What other choice do I have? I mean, I don't know about Jared, but I wouldn't fail if I didn't attend. However, my parents would be pretty upset to see my GPA drop, and this math class is killing me.

Jared doesn't answer, he just shrugs. I can't help, but feel more than a little devastated by his lack of enthusiasm, but quite honestly, I can't say I'm surprised. It's not like _he's_ imagining all sorts of summer scenarios where after we get out of class, the two of us head somewhere to do a fun date-like activity. He's always been nice to me, sure, but he's nice to everyone, which is part of the reason I like him so darn much. I want to open my mouth and say something cheerful about helping him improve his grade, but I don't want to sound cheesy or fake, or super bubbly, so I just keep my mouth shut and don't say anything.

And jeez, if I can't even say anything in front of Mr. Mendoza, how am I supposed to talk to him one-on-one in a summer school session? I suddenly feel worried. Maybe this isn't the best idea after all.

"I don't know what more I can do for you," Mr. Mendoza interrupts. "Honestly, Jared, I've already offered you the after school tutoring with me, as well as the group sessions in the library, but I can't help students who won't put in the effort to help themselves. I – "

Without a word, Jared suddenly stands up from the desk he had been sitting on, grabs his backpack from the floor, and walks out of the classroom. Mr. Mendoza and I stare after him, both of us wide-eyed and stunned. Jared has never been a perfect student, but he's never been rude either, and for him to walk out on a teacher like that… it's just unlike him.

Thankfully, I don't take it personally; otherwise, it might've been a bit hurtful.

After a few seconds, I turn to Mr. Mendoza, unsure how to process what's happened. He blinks a few times, clearly just as lost as I am, and clears his throat as he turns back towards me.

"I'm aware that you and Jared Thail don't exactly run in the same circles, and this could be asking a lot of you, but if you run into him outside of class, or if you have any other classes with him, please offer your assistance and try to convince him to come on his own. I have a feeling that you could be what he needs, and I hate to be the bad guy and send a letter home to his parents," he says, almost pleadingly.

Dazed and more than a little confused, I promise Mr. Mendoza I'll try before I walk out of the classroom and make my way to my locker. Staying after class with them has caused me to miss the bus. Luckily, I have no one to wonder where I am. Unluckily, I have no one to wonder where I am and will be forced to walk home unless I call a cab or something.

Silently, I chastise myself as I pull out my cell phone. I could've spoken up, said something about not being able to stay long… but no, I'm Kimberly Connweller. Not speaking up is why I was held after in the first place.

I have one text message and it's from my mother. Of course.

'**I love you Kimmy! Order takeout for us! Be home by 6!'**

I take a page out of Mr. Mendoza's book and sigh as I bring up the screen to text her back. Six o'clock for her means eight o'clock in real time, by which point all the movies in our meager collection will all have been watched, and the food will be cold. Re-heated Chinese food is never as good as the real thing, although it is a close second, but I could sacrifice all that to make something that's almost just as good. Ramen noodles.

'**I love you Mom, but I missed the bus… Sorry. Money for taxi? Chinese food rain check?'**

It takes her a second but she responds with a 'tsk tsk' and a 'Cya later love.'

I wonder if she'll be so easygoing when she realizes I'll have to attend summer school. My sources say no.

A lonely taxi cab ride later, I arrive home to what I thought would be an empty house –

* * *

- house on the front porch waiting for me.

My best friend taps her foot, shakes her head, and glares at me from the porch stairs.

"You could've _said_ something, Kim!" she says, pushing her curly, perpetually messy hair behind her ears. "You could've texted if you were going to be late!"

I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. In all of the Jared Thail excitement, I completely forgot about Jamie and the fact that she was going to join in on our impromptu movie night. So much for Ramen noodles.

"I'm so sorry!" I say, rushing up the front door to open it for her. "How long were you waiting?"

"Long enough!" she says, huffily. "I was thinking about leaving to be honest."

"I'm sorry," I apologize again, feeling my face redden. "Mr. Mendoza kept us after – "

"Liar. I saw Tiffany Spearce from your class get on the bus. Try again," she interrupts, rolling her eyes.

"Honestly," I say, as she pushes past me to go into the house. She leads the way up to my room as I continue my explanation.

"Mr. Mendoza wants me to take a math class in summer school. Me… and Jared Thail."

"Rancid!" she gasps. "That's dis-_gross_-ting! Did you tell him no way in seven hells? Especially not with _Thail_." She drops her purse in the middle of my floor, having already been home to switch over from her backpack, and collapses onto my bed like she owns the place.

"I _like_ Jared," I say, softly, as I place my own backpack next to my desk. She rolls her eyes, but of course, she already knows this. She just likes to hear me say it, so she can react to it. She swears that Jared Thail is the loThail of the low. At first, she would say that because she thought it made her a better friend to badmouth a guy who wouldn't give me the time of day. Now, I think she takes pleasure in pointing out his flaws just because she can.

"I don't think it'll be that bad," I say. "I do need to bring my grade up, and it'll give me something to do this summer while you're away."

"Yessss!" she sighs, happily. "While I'm vacationing in sunny Florida way across the country, my poor sad friend will be here. Stuck with Thail. In a classroom… improving her _math_ grade."

I don't say anything.

"It's balls, you know," she says. "I would much rather you were with me. You mom's a butt munch for not letting you go."

I just shrug. We both know she's lying. She would much rather go alone so she can come back and have something to brag to me about. Not that I mind not going. I would never say this out loud, but a break from Jamie would be a vacation in itself. She's… a handful, to say the least.

Still, though, she _is_ my best friend. She's pretty much my _only_ friend, due to my inability to make any others combined with her tendency to scare people off. She didn't have to talk to me when she first moved here in sixth grade, but she did. And when I asked her why she chose me to be her friend, she declared that everyone else was a brain-dead loser, and offered me one of her zebra snack cakes from her lunchbox. We've been inseparable ever since.

"I really can't wait," she pipes up, cutting into my thoughts. "We only have like a week until school is over."

"So are you leaving the same day?" I ask. "The last day of school?"

"Yessir!" she exclaims. "And I'll be sure to send you a million postcards!" She says, still rubbing it in my face. I fight the urge to roll my own eyes. Again, we both know she's lying.

"So where's your mom?" she asks, abruptly changing the subject when she sees that her Florida trip is not going to get a reaction out of me, whatsoever. "What did she have to say about your sudden summer plans?"

"I just found out today," I say. "She doesn't know yet."

"Ooooh, that's one conversation I'm sticking around for!" she says, grinning at me.

"It's not like I did anything wrong," I say, shrugging. "I'm not failing math. I'm just going to improve my grade." _And to see Jared… hopefully_.

"Summer school is summer school!" she singsongs.

Anxious to get off this subject before she brings Jared up again, I entertain the idea of watching a movie, and being an easily distracted person, she agrees quickly enough.

As we settle in to watch the movie and she laughs at me for spilling the bowl of popcorn all over the couch, I can't help thinking that school can't be over soon –

* * *

- soon enough, I'm waving goodbye, just barely able to contain my glee as I see her off from her driveway about a week later. I jump on my bike and pedal my way back home. It's no small feat getting from my house to hers. She lives clear across the rez and usually she'll just take a cab to my house or insist on paying for one if I want to go over hers.

There's an old bike path through the woods I'm not really supposed to take, but always do anyways. It's faster than going the long way around, and I've been playing in these woods my entire life. The chances of me getting lost or falling into a ditch are slim to none. I'm careful and I never go traipsing through there at night, so I don't see the harm.

In record breaking time, I break free on the other side and it's a slightly uphill, but much shorter, ride to my house.

Leaving my bike on the front lawn, I let myself in, grab my laptop from where it was plugged up on the kitchen counter, and park myself on the couch. I log into my Tumblr account and update it with a word-post: _Finally! I'm free for the summer!_ I scroll through the pictures, reblog a few that I think are funny, and log off to play the Sims, which in my opinion, is the best game in existence. Naturally, Jamie thinks it's a waste of time and when she discovered I liked it, made fun of me endlessly, and even took a picture of my 'Jared Thail' Sim threatening to show him. She didn't back off until I cried, at which point she disgustedly called me a baby, and didn't speak to me for three days.

I sigh at the memory. Unfortunately, I have many like those. But no matter, because it's summer time. My math class doesn't start until the second half of summer, so I have quite a while to just relax and have alone time before the madness starts. Plenty of time to just sit around and daydream about Jared Thail…

Without Jamie.

Without distractions.

Just me. Alone and content. Just the way I like it.

* * *

_- FadingSlowly_


	2. GOB SMACKED EXPRESSION

**Disclaimer: I hold no ownership rights of Twilight. Anything original does belong to me, however.**

**Author's Note: These chapters are going to be significantly shorter than Fallible. I figure shorter chapters should mean faster updates. Fallible averaged in at a little over 5,000 words per chapter, sometimes a lot more than that. Brave is going to be about 4,000 words per chapter.**

* * *

**02 – GOB SMACKED EXPRESSION – 02**

"What do you think? Parsley flakes this time or no?"

I shrug. "Whatever you want," I say to my mom. She shakes her head at me and disappears into aisle four of the tiny grocery store on the reservation.

"I don't know why you ask me every time," I continue, following her. "You know I suck in the kitchen."

"Don't say 'suck,'" she replies automatically, as her eyes scan the shelves. "I hate that term. Say you're awful in the kitchen. Say you have a lot to learn about the kitchen. But don't say 'suck.' It's vulgar."

"Suck, suck, suck, suck, suck," I respond. She mock-glares, swats her hand at my bottom, and misses. I giggle.

"Okay, look Kim, seriously. _These_ are the parsley flakes we get. See the brand? Memorize the brand. Last time, I don't know what you picked up, but it certainly wasn't what I sent you here for," she says.

"I hate grocery shopping," I mutter.

"Think of it as a learning experience," she says. "You _like_ to learn."

"Not about anything involving the kitchen." I shudder.

"I hope you get a scholarship that involves a meal plan when I send you off to college. Or else you're going to be shit out of luck, my dear."

She tosses the parsley flakes into the basket and I follow her out of the aisle. I love my mom. I really, really do. But when it comes to being in a kitchen and cooking, I prefer to let her do all of the work and she knows it. I'm so not looking forward to having to scavenge for food when I eventually do go off to college, but thankfully, I have another two years before I have to think about it.

We leave the grocery store in high spirits. Since Jamie has been gone, and I have had virtually nothing to do, my mom and I have been spending a lot of time together. I know it's going to sound incredibly lame when Jamie comes back and asks me what I did all summer, but honestly I'm having the time of my life.

My mom works two part time jobs to make ends meet: She's a waitress and she's the manager of the cleaning staff at a nice hotel, so during the school year, we rarely see each other. It's nice to be able to slow down and spend her days off with her, especially since it's just us two in the house now. A few years ago, when I was just starting seventh grade, my parents got divorced. It wasn't anything dramatic or crazy. No one cheated, no one died, no one had a life-changing revelation – they just realized they weren't in love anymore, and decided to split up.

My mom has dated on and off since then, but nothing too serious and I wouldn't know about my dad. When he divorced my mom, it's like he divorced me too, and I barely hear from him anymore. We weren't particularly close when he did live here, and the situation didn't exactly bring us closer.

"Quiet, silent, noiseless…" My mom suddenly says as she puts the car into reverse and backs out of the parking spot.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

She grins, the laugh lines on her face deepening. "I am trying to think of all the words that describe you right now."

"Contemplative," I say, after a moment.

"Really? What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"Tomorrow. Starting summer school," I respond. _Jared Thail_, I add silently, blushing a little bit. Truthfully, it isn't a secret. Well, it is, but not to my mom or obviously, to Jamie. My mom has, of course, been around my entire life, so she knows that I have a gigantic crush on Jared, that I've always had a crush on Jared, that there has been no one else for me, but Jared.

And I know it sounds crazy, but I truly believe that Jared and I are meant to be.

If only I could work up the nerve to talk to him, to start up some kind of conversation, other than my horrible failure three years ago, when I blurted out, "I like your shirt," and I stuttered over the word, 'shirt,' so naturally, it came out sounding like, "I like your _shit_."

Jared was confused, Jamie was amused, and I walked away mortified.

"And a certain someone who I heard through the grapevine is going to be in summer school, too?" Mom says, teasingly.

I blush harder. I should've known. Nothing gets past her.

"Where did you hear?" I mutter.

"The diner, where I get all my gossip-worthy news," she says, beaming. "His mom stopped in. We chatted for a bit. I told her you might be looking for something to do this summer and she mentioned that Fishing Goods Store that Harry Clearwater owns? Apparently they were looking for a sales person and he hired Jared part-time."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I say, my mouth dropping open. If I had known, I could've applied there, and worked closely with him all summer… by the time school came around we could've been best friends. "Mo-om!" I whine.

"Nuh-uh, remember that conversation we had about you getting a job right when school let out, and you put your foot down, said you were entitled to some rest this summer and you didn't want to hear another word about it? Yep, that's right, I withheld information," she says, smugly.

I glare at her. She smirks.

"Not cool."

"You put your foot down," she shrugs, as she pulls into our driveway. "What was I supposed to do?"

"How come me putting my foot down always seems to work in your favor?" I grumble, letting myself out.

"Because I'm the mommy," she says, still smirking. "Grab those bags for me, Kimmy-bunny. Mommy loves you." She kills the engine and saunters in the house with me still glaring after her. I have half a mind to leave the bags in the car, but then again, she makes the best spaghetti…

Sighing heavily, I open the trunk, and lift the bags up –

* * *

- up in the morning, usually. It takes three alarm clocks, with obnoxious music and/or noise that my brain can't make sense of, strategically placed around the room to wake me up. I am a night person, through and through.

But on my first day of summer school, when I know for certain that Jared Thail will be in attendance because it was confirmed by my very own mother, who may or may not be the sneakiest sneak in the world, but who has certainly never lied to me, I am up and wide awake by the first alarm clock.

I turn on the radio and 'Kiss Me Slowly' by Parachute comes blaring out of the speakers. It's a perfect Jared-on-my-mind type song, and I sing and dance my way to the shower. No need to turn it down, since my mom is long gone by this time. Summer school doesn't start until 10AM – another awesome perk.

Twenty minutes later, I am refreshed and more than ready to begin my day. I grab a bagel, wolf it down, and run out of the door. It's only 9:20 and I know I'm way early, but whatever.

The bus doesn't come for summer school, so I jump on my bike and head in the right direction, trying to force myself to go slower than I actually want to. It doesn't really work, and I end up getting to school in a record-breaking fifteen minutes. Oh, well.

I lock my bike up, though it's not really necessary. Everyone pretty much knows everyone here, so if it were to be stolen, someone else would see it almost immediately. It's time-consuming, though, and I manage to shave off three minutes doing so. Slowly, I walk towards the school, my heart pounding as I get closer. Upon entering the building, I realize that I have no idea where I'm supposed to go and I get nervous.

Did they send out a letter in the mail that I missed with my classroom number on it? Did something happen with my summer enrollment and I'm not in the class after all? Oh no, that would be so embarrassing if I walked into the classroom and it turns out I'm not even enrolled…

I breathe a small sigh of relief when I see a friendly and familiar-looking woman at a table in the middle of the entrance hall. Then the nerves return ten-fold. It's Jared's mom! Of all people. She must be volunteering.

"Hello! You're Gabrielle's daughter, right?" she says, nodding. She has a huge smile on her face and I feel myself relaxing almost instantly. Honestly, she and Jared could be twins from up close. They have the same honey-colored eyes, the same calming smile, and the same left cheek dimple.

"You're in the same class as my son, if I'm not mistaken. You're kind of early, though, but better early than late!" she says, happily as she locates my name on a list. "It's room 240, darling. Go right on back. Jared's already there."

"Th-Thank you," I stutter, flashing a tiny smile.

The nervousness is back and in spades. I had planned to go to the bathroom and make sure I looked alright, although I took care with my outfit today, having planned it last night. I was wearing my favorite long-sleeved white and yellow striped V-neck shirt with the new dark-rinse jeggings my mom picked up for me on sale. The shirt purposely hangs off the shoulders, so I paired it with a black tank top, and matched that with my standard black ballet flats.

My hair is thin and wispy and always just kind of hangs there, so I left it wet from the shower hoping it would naturally frizz up to give it some volume. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't. It hasn't so far, but at least it's shiny and long, so that's something.

I'm not wearing makeup because last time I wore it was the dreaded 'shit' episode and I cried my eyeliner away. It was not a pretty sight. My mother has repeatedly tried to assure me that there is a such-thing as water-resistant makeup, but I don't trust that concept.

I think I look pretty alright, though. Not stunning, but I would give myself a solid B if getting dressed was graded.

Anyways, I had planned to go to the bathroom, but there isn't one between room 240 and that front table setup. I have this weird fear that if I had gone to the bathroom his mom would know that I was doing it to get ready to see her son… I know it's probably ridiculous, but I swear the whole town knows my secret sometimes.

Oh, God.

I'm really freaking out now. Jared is right inside the classroom. And he's _alone_. And there's still like twenty minutes before class starts, no teacher in sight.

I take a deep breath. I can do this. All I have to do is walk in. I don't have to say anything if I don't want to. Knowing Jared, he'll be the one to start a conversation with me. Right. I can do this.

I turn the knob and pull the door open wincing at the creaking sound it makes.

I spot him immediately. He's sprawled in a chair next to the window with his arm over his eyes and his head against the wall, and he's knocked out… if that's even _him_. He's freaking huge!

I gawk at him. _Someone_ neglected to mention his amazing growth spurt, and I thought I knew everything that went on in this town. He's wearing a tight white t-shirt that seriously looks as if it's going to give way to his bulging muscles – _Jared has bulging muscles_ – and jeans that are cut off at the knees. He barely fits in the chair.

I go weak in the knees, suddenly, and I thought that was something that only happened in novels. He's even more beautiful than before, if that's possible. I really didn't think it was.

His phone goes off and startles both of us. I stumble backwards as my heart rate increases. I've been caught staring…

He sits straight up, and snatches his phone out of his pocket. "Hey," he says in a groggy voice – a really, really _deep_, groggy voice.

He hasn't noticed me yet, and I don't want him to think I'm a weirdo. I make myself move and park myself in a seat three chairs over from him. The movement causes him to look in my direction. My cheeks are pink, I know it. I stare resolutely at the table in front of me.

"Oh, that's nice," he says to whoever is on the phone. "Nah, it's supposed to start at ten, I think. Right?"

I continue to stare at the table, knowing I must look like a moron. But really, the only other option is to look in his direction, and that's weird, too. I could pull out my phone, just for something to do –

"Hey, Kimberly, this class starts at ten, right?"

My head jerks up, and I turn to look at him wide-eyed. The second we make eye-contact, something weird happens. Two things, actually: his eyes go just as wide as mine do, and he actually _drops_ his phone. It snaps closed, causing the phone to immediately revert to speakerphone mode.

"_Jared? Jared?"_ A girl's voice comes out of it. My stomach clenches. I refuse to let myself think about it.

But he's still staring at me with that gob smacked expression, and I can only imagine he's waiting for an answer, so I find my voice from where it's buried itself and I manage to say, "Ye-yeah, it st-starts at ten."

"_Jared, am I on speakerphone?"_ The voice asks.

You dropped your phone, I want to say, but my voice has buried itself again, and he's still staring at me, and I don't really know what to say. Or do. My face, however, is getting hotter and hotter.

Very slowly, as if I am a small animal who might run away if he makes any sudden movements, Jared reaches down to where his phone is, grabs it, opens it up and presses the End button, effectively hanging up on the girl. I watch him, startled.

"Hi," he says to me, exhaling the word.

"H-Hi," I stammer, wishing I didn't sound like such an idiot.

"How are you?" he asks, his eyes still slightly wide. Briefly, I wonder if he's making fun of me, and then dismiss it. Jared wouldn't do that.

So then, why is he staring at me like that?

His face expression suddenly changes from awe to embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was staring," he says, breaking eye contact with me for all of five seconds. Then, he looks back up as if he honestly can't help himself.

It takes me a minute to realize that he answered my thoughts and then I connect. "I-I said that out loud?" I ask, mortified. "I'm sorry, I didn't – I didn't mean to, I'm… um… I really didn't mean to say that."

Humiliated, my eyes dart away from him and towards the door. Is it too late to switch classes?

"Wait, don't leave!" he says, reading my face expression accurately. "I don't mean to be weird, I just… I… uh…" His eyes search mine, and then he looks away. "Fuck," he mutters.

Startled and extremely confused, I just watch him. This is not how I expected today to go – at all.

"Do you want to… go out sometime? With me?" he blurts out.

It's all I can do to not start hyperventilating. This is really, _really_ not how I expected today to go.

"What?" I say, feeling as if I might honestly faint.

"How was the first half of your summer?" he asks.

I don't know which question to answer. I go for the latter, wanting to kick myself as I do so. "Fine," I say, softly.

"You will?" he says, his tone excited.

"I… huh?" I'm so lost.

"Wait, which question were you answering?" he says, at the same time that I hurriedly say, "I meant my summer was fine. The first half."

He laughs kind of awkwardly and I blush and he looks embarrassed again, and strangely, almost as nervous as I feel. "I'm not… making any sense, am I?"

Before I can think up an answer to that, that isn't offensive at all, the classroom door opens and four more people come in – three girls and a boy – followed by a teacher. Jared continues watching me and doesn't seem to realize that we aren't alone anymore.

"I want – " he starts to say, but he is interrupted by the teacher, so I don't find out what he wants.

"Hey class, there's just going to be the seven of us, so we can go ahead and get started. I'm going to take attendance. Feel free to sit wherever you want – "

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Jared jumps up gaining everyone's attention, and parks himself in the chair next to me.

"Alright, then," the teacher says, raising her eyebrows. "I meant _during_ attendance, but okay." Everyone, except Jared and I, giggle.

My face burns and I'm back to staring at my desk –

* * *

- desk for the first half of the class, too embarrassed to look up. I could feel Jared staring at me the entire time, and by the time the teacher – Mrs. Najera – calls for a half an hour break, I've convinced myself that this is an elaborate joke Jamie and Jared have somehow set up together, and I'm ready to bolt.

Mrs. Najera pulls out a brown paper bag and a book and settles back into her desk with a, "Remember, you only have half an hour to get something to eat."

The other students don't need telling twice. They're already gone. I jump up with the intention of heading to a bathroom, or a snack machine, or maybe just leaving altogether. After all, I don't _really_ need to be here. I could just get away with tutoring once classes start again. My mom will kill me, but I can deal.

"Kimberly, hey," I'm stopped halfway out of the door by Jared's hand on my arm. Touching me. Jared's hand on my arm _touching_ me.

His hand is extremely warm, almost hot. When I turn to face him, a little ways outside of the classroom, he lets go. The quick look of reluctance on his face is probably my imagination.

"Are you going to get something to eat?" he asks. "I didn't bring anything. Figured I'd raid the vending machines."

I nod. "Um, yeah. That's what… what I was going to do, too," I say.

"Cool," he says, happily. He makes a move as if he's going to grab my hand, and completely startled, my body backs away on its own.

He closes his eyes for a second as if he's counting to ten, or talking to himself, and then he opens his eyes and looks at me apologetically. "Sorry," he says, quietly.

Wide eyed, I make myself nod.

He starts to walk and I follow him, the silence between us already awkward and made even more so by the fact that there is virtually no one else in the hallways.

"So, um, your summer was fine?" he asks, slowing down so that we are walking side-by-side.

"Ye-Yeah," I say. Then for some reason I will never completely understand, I say the stupidest thing possible. "Shouldn't you call that girl back…?" And immediately, I want to kick myself.

I walk a few steps before I realized he's stopped. I turn around to find him looking at me contemplatively.

"Sorry," I say quickly, turning red again. "It's none of my business."

"No, I… you're right. I should," he says and my stomach clenches up again. "I will. I just forgot."

"No, it's really… it has nothing to do with me," I say, shaking my head. "I don't even know why I… I'm sorry."

Stupid, Kim! Now he'll probably call her and forget all about you…

"Around the next corner are the best two vending machines in the school," he says, switching gears completely.

It's my turn to give him a weird look. "They're the _only_ two vending machines in the school," I say.

He grins. "And by default, that makes them the best."

Huh.

"Come on, vending machine lunch on me," he says, as we round the corner.

He pulls three dollars out of his pocket, and hesitates.

"It's okay, I brought money," I say, quickly.

"Right." He looks embarrassed again. "I… uh, I got you tomorrow, cool?"

"You don't… you don't have to," I say, softly.

His face falls. "You don't want me to?"

"It's just, if you can't – " I stop myself, realizing what I was about to say. _If you can't afford it_. But Jared's not stupid.

For the millionth time, I feel myself blushing again as a myriad of emotions quickly dance across his face.

"I can afford it," he says, so quietly I almost don't hear him.

I feel like I'm about to cry. I want to protest and say I didn't mean it, that I wasn't going to say that, but I _did_ and I _was_, and I don't want to lie. Everyone knows that Jared's family is on the lower end of the totem pole in terms of money. He has a great dad who works as hard as he can, a loving mom who made a career as a housewife, and three younger siblings who adore him, but are way too young to work. The only reason he was able to get into summer school was because his mom is on the PTA and she has connections in high places.

I can feel the tears prickling behind my eyes, and I blink rapidly. Honestly, the only thing that would be worse than this moment is if I start crying right now.

"In fact, I'll do you one better. I'll bring you lunch tomorrow," he says, determinedly. "We'll have a picnic."

Why? I want to ask, but I don't, taking special care to make sure I don't say it out loud by accident this time.

"It'll be the shortest picnic ever, but it'll be a damn good one," he says, smiling again.

I swallow, managing to blink back my tears successfully. I want to apologize again, but I don't want to make it awkward.

"Okay," I say, a bit hesitantly –

* * *

- hesitantly approaches me after class.

"What are you up to after this?" he asks, as we walk out together.

"Homework," I say, regretting it as soon as it slips out. I know it makes me sound like a huge nerd.

"Good idea," he says, snorting. "I should be doing that, too."

"What… what are you going to do?" I ask, heading for my bike. Part of me hopes he asks me to do something with him. Another part of me thinks it's a very bad idea – that's just more time for me to put my foot in my mouth and say things I shouldn't and embarrass myself.

"Work. I work at the Clearwater's store. You should stop by sometime," he says, suddenly.

I open my mouth to answer, but his phone rings again, cutting us both off.

He looks down at it and looks embarrassed. A boulder drops into the pit of my stomach. I just know it's that girl.

"I should take this," he says, regretfully. "But I'll see you tomorrow?"

I nod and give him a little wave as he answers his phone. Awkwardly as ever, I grab my bike, hop on and ride away, leaving him standing there.

This is really… really, _really not at all_ how I expected today to go.

But… somehow, still, I really find myself looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

_- FadingSlowly_


	3. SUCH CLOSE PROXIMITY

**Disclaimer: I hold no ownership rights of Twilight. Anything original does belong to me, however.**

* * *

**03 – SUCH CLOSE PROXIMITY – 03**

The entire way home I refused to allow myself to think, as I sincerely believed I could not pedal straight and process what had just happened with Jared at the same time. It's happened before - thinking about Jared while biking, I mean - and every time either resulted in my face taking a trip to the ground with my bike following quickly behind or crashing into something and making it go crunch. Biking required concentration and throwing Jared into the mix did not guarantee I would get home safely.

I pedal like I had never pedaled before and make it home in one piece. Between this morning and right now I feel like I'm training for the Olympics. My legs are burning and my stomach is churning and my head is spinning and I'm kind of okay but really, _really_ not, and I don't quite understand what has happened here.

"_Breathe, _Kim!" I tell myself somewhat frantically because I am starting to feel like I might faint and there is no one here to wake me up if that happens.

I talked to Jared and he started the conversation and he chose to talk to me instead of the mystery girl on the phone. We had an actual _real _conversation in which he asked me how my summer was and offered to buy me lunch and insisted that he bring me lunch tomorrow and oh my god did he actually _ask_ me _out_?

I pause in my pacing of the kitchen floor.

"Did Jared Thail actually ask me out?" I whisper out loud.

No. It's not possible. I must have imagined it or this is all some crazy elaborate dream and the first day of summer school hasn't happened yet and when I wake up it will be Monday again. And I will go to school on time and Jared will be polite and possibly say hi and then will most likely ignore me like I fully expect him to and I will sit across the room from him envisioning the perfect future in which I am Mrs. Kimberly Thail and I will stealthily write about it in my diary while shielding it from noisy onlookers and then I will put it away when class starts signaling my retreat into daydream mode. Like _usually_.

Right. Yes. That is what will happen. Taking a deep breath, I head up the stairs towards my room.

That is what will happen. Because there's no way on earth Jared Thail asked me out today. Or stared at me like he did. Or talked to me like he was interested in what I had to say.

It's just not possible -

* * *

- possible or not, I still will be seeing him today, and I still want to make sure I look my absolute best.

Pink and tan are my colors and I match from the hot pink headband in my hair down to the tan slip-on comfy shoes with fake-me-out pink laces. Very girly. Something more suited to Jamie than me, but hopefully the little bit of her I'm channeling helps in the confidence department today. On the off chance that I didn't imagine yesterday, I'm going to need all the extra oomph I can pull off.

I am both terrified and excited to show up early today. I am scared out of my mind that Jared will be early again, too; at the same time, I'll be disappointed if he doesn't. Due to my growing insanity, and muscles in my legs that are seriously working in my favor, I manage to arrive at school at 9:15.

Trying to pretend I'm not in a hurry, I force myself to amble towards the front doors. Pulling them open, Jared's mom is the first face I see. My stomach knots. On one hand her being here means there's a greater chance that Jared is already here. On the other hand I blush horribly and wonder that she'll guess I'm here early just to see her son.

"Hi Kimberly," she says warmly. If she knows I'm here early for Jared, she doesn't let on.

"Hi," I say, shyly. I stand there for a few awkward seconds, but she must not be in a sharing mood today because she doesn't say whether or not Jared is already in the classroom. She just smiles ad raises her eyebrows as if to ask if I need anything.

I blush and make my feet move me towards the hallway. Once in the hall with no one watching me I give up all pretenses and hurry to the classroom as fast as my legs will allow. I peek through the doorway. He's here!

And he's sitting in the same seat as yesterday - the one he moved to so he could sit next to me.

My heart stutters. But I'm here now. I force myself to breathe deeply. I might as well go inside.

I open the door and he immediately looks in my direction.

"Hey Kimberly!" he says with a bright happy smile.

I pause in the doorway a little taken aback. No one has ever looked so genuinely delighted to see me before. Not even my own mother, and I am pretty sure I am her favorite person in the world.

"Hi," I manage to say without stuttering.

"How was your night? Did you finish the homework? You look really, ah... um, I like your outfit," he says all of this so rapidly that I can barely keep up.

At the last comment, though, I go pale and hot and cold all at the same time.

"Th-Thank you," I say, back to stuttering in full force.

Looking as embarrassed as I feel, his eyes dart away from me and then towards me again. Feeling self-conscious I make myself move until I am seated next to him. For some reason this awards me a full-blown Jared smile and I stop breathing for a moment.

"Did you ride your bike here today?" he asks.

"What? Oh. Um, yes," I respond.

Come on, Kim! I urge myself. Elaborate a little!

Naturally though as soon as I open my mouth and ask, "Do you ride here with your mom?" he says, "Sorry about yesterday."

"What?" I ask.

"What?" he echoes.

We look at each other and laugh kind of awkwardly. Well Jared laughs; I just sort of stare at him in wonder and smile a little.

"Yeah, I catch a ride with her. Or more accurately, she catches a ride with me. I have a jeep. Saved up for it myself and everything. She has to be here by eight, though, and since I live kind of far, it's just easier to get up with her. Better than driving back and forth, but the downside is that we get here super early."

"Oh," I say for lack of anything better to say.

"The upsides outweigh the downsides by far, though," he adds.

"Really?" I ask, waiting for him to go on.

"Yeah. My dad picks her up on his lunch break, so I'm free to do whatever after school. And..." He hesitates before saying, "I get to see you."

The boulder in my stomach solidifies and drops down to my knees. I look away from him and stare down at my desk. What does that mean? I ask it, silently. My desk just stares back at me as lost as I am.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," he says, softly. "If I was being weird. I mean, I know I was... being weird..."

Face hot, I continue to stare at my desk, but I manage to say, "It's okay," in the tiniest of voices.

We're quiet for a moment.

"Hey, Kimberly?" he practically whispers. "Do you... do you have a boyfriend?"

My head snaps up, wide eyes locking with his.

The classroom door slams open causing both of us to jump and look around.

" - right? So I say to her, Jess, if you feel that way, then don't talk to him anymore..."

The two girls who walk in catch sight of Jared and me and stop talking, as if they've walked in on something private.

"Oh," one of them says in a hushed voice. "Sorry..."

"It's cool," Jared says, recovering faster than me. Not that I would have said anything anyways. He flashes them a smile and I watch them both turn to mush.

It's both relief and slight jealousy I feel to know that I am not the only one he has that effect on. Jamie didn't know what she was talking about. It's not just me -

* * *

- me not to say, ask me again! Or it would if I had the guts to say things like that to him. Instead I try to content myself with the thought that if he's interested - and that concept is wildly exciting, terrifying, and a lot more believable in this moment than ever before in equal doses - then I just have to sit tight and eventually he will ask me again if I have a boyfriend.

Or he'll do something else romance novel-worthy like ask me out or just skip all of that and make an actual move. The very thought makes my cheeks get hot. Jared Thail making a move on me? It would be a lie to say I can't even imagine because I can and I have several times, but in real life...? Just the fact that he's _here_ right now and having _conversations_ with me and that he brought me an actual _picnic lunch_ is more than anything I could think up in my daydreams.

Honestly, it's a little hard to believe this is even happening.

"Do you like mustard or mayonnaise?" Jared asks as he quickly sets up our picnic area. He really went all out and I am impressed.

He has the red and white checkered picnic blanket spread out in the school's tiny courtyard, the classic picnic basket and enough food in there to last hours. Too bad we only have half of one.

"Mustard," I manage to say in answer to his question.

"Awesome! Me too!" He looks delighted at the fact and his enthusiasm is catching.

I smile. He grins. I want to say how much I appreciate this and how cute I think it is and how cute I think _he_ is, but I don't. Of course I don't. I don't even know how to. Not that I would ever tell him to his face that I find him attractive - the very thought scares me - but I wish at least had the guts to tell him that I like this. I really, really like this a lot.

But just the thought of voicing something like that, something that should be simple and easy and involves almost no risks, still scares the mess out of me. Because at any moment he could say, "Just kidding!" Or Jamie could pop out from behind a corner and say, "I showed him your Jared-sim and we couldn't resist! You're not too mad, right?" Or that mystery girl could show up and stake her claim and be all, "Thanks for keeping him warm for me, Connweller!"

Okay, so I really don't think that last one would happen, but it _could_. They all could.

"We have like ten minutes left," Jared interrupts my thoughts.

Right. I should eat. I pick up a turkey sandwich.

"I know this will probably sound crazy, but would you want to get out of here?" he asks, and because I'm me, I choke on the bit of turkey sandwich I've bitten off.

"Are you okay?" he asks, slightly alarmed.

I cough. "Fine," I wheeze, more embarrassed than anything.

"Was that a cleverly designed no?" he asks, after a minute of watching me drink one of the bottled waters he brought.

Strangely, the question causes me to laugh, which just brings on another round of choke-coughing.

"Okay, I get it," he says after I manage to get the use of my lungs back a second time. "No talking while you're ingesting any type of food product."

This time I put the food items down before responding. "You… you mean skip class?" I stammer, barely able to look him in the eye.

"Just for today," he says, quickly. "I don't know, I mean, I kind of want the picnic to last for a little bit longer, don't you? If you don't, we can go inside. Maybe hang out some other time… It's just, I don't have to work today, so I thought… It's cool, though if you have other plans. It's up to you."

He's babbling and I find that totally endearing, but I can't exactly tell my mother I skipped class because Jared's babbling was endearing. Somehow I doubt she'd understand, regardless of what she knows about how I feel about Jared.

"My mom," I start to say, wincing, well aware that this is going to sound utterly lame. "She would kill me."

To my surprise, he just grins. "I have it all figured out – "

* * *

- out the backdoor in under five minutes. After telling me to hang back and 'look sick,' he managed to charm Mrs. Najera into believing I was sick enough that I needed to be taken home. We went through the backdoor, though, because in his words, his mother was probably still sitting in the front hall and was 'immune to his bullshit.'

Then he did a cute Jared thing and apologized for saying, 'bullshit,' around me. Blushing, I managed to tell him that my own mother was known for saying a lot worse, and that made him laugh. _I_ made Jared laugh.

We climb into his jeep – I'm in his jeep! – and buckle our seatbelts. He's just put the car in reverse and backs out when I remember my bike.

"Oh!" I say, and not very loud, but it's enough for him to slam on the breaks and cause both of us to hit our heads.

"Shit. You okay?" he asks, concerned.

Embarrassed, I nod. "Sorry, I j-just remembered. My bike is here. How…?" I trail off.

"Oh, right, it's no problem. I'll bring you back later. Uh, I figure we can just go to my house, if that's cool? My mom will probably take my dad's car and run errands before she picks up the monsters. My sister and my brothers, I mean."

He says all of this really quickly, as if he expects me to object to going to his house. To be honest, I'm still trying to adjust to being in his car… in such close proximity with him…

"Sure," I say, a little breathlessly, as I struggle to mentally wipe away the thoughts my mind is conjuring up.

He really does live kind of far, as it takes us about twenty minutes to get to his house. I can only imagine how bad it would be if we had to walk. We make small talk – or, _Jared_ makes small talk, and I just kind of nod and 'mmhmm' in all the right places – until we pull into his driveway.

It's a one-story, really cutesy place. The house is painted a pale green with white trim. There are neat little rosebushes along the front and a path to the door with those garden lights matched evenly on both sides. The mailbox even has their name painted on in careful cursive letters: Thail. The adorableness of it all reminds me of the gingerbread house in _Hansel and Gretel_.

I want to say how nice it is, but I'm afraid of how cheesy that will sound, so I keep my mouth shut and follow Jared up the front walk instead, opting to leave my mini-backpack (the more practical pack if I'm on a bike everyday) in his jeep. I slide my cellphone in my pocket.

"Welcome to _Casa de Thail_," he says in an announcer's voice, as he swings the door open.

I let out a tiny gasp. It's just as cutesy on the inside as it is on the outside. Everything matches and everything is in its place. It looks like something out of a magazine, which makes me nervous to be here and glad that I left my bag in the car.

The theme here seems to be cherry wood, which is my absolute favorite. Almost everything looks homemade, from the table in the front hall to what looks like a desk in a room further back. There's a soft deep plum carpet runner that makes the hall look especially inviting and the soft lighting complements it in a way that's just… wow. I've never been one for interior design, but someone deserves a gold star for this place.

"My mom is kind of a neat freak," he says, almost apologetically.

"It's nice," I choke out, blushing immediately.

"Yeah, well… we don't really… I mean, we're not _rich_, so it is what it is." He shrugs, embarrassedly.

But he has absolutely _nothing_ to be embarrassed about.

"She tries really hard," he adds. "She even made most of the furniture, though she lies about it and says she got it on sale at some fancy store."

At that, I can't contain my surprise. "Why?" I ask, the words bursting out before I can stop them. "Why would she lie? This is beautiful."

He stares at me and slowly, his lips curve into a smile. "You like it?" he asks, almost shyly.

"It's amazing," I whisper, ducking my head down and looking away from him.

He's quiet for a moment. Then, in a soft voice, he says, "I think she lies because we can't afford to go to places like _Ikea_ and _Home Depot_ and she really wishes we could. She's ashamed to admit that she made all of this. Even the paintings… my mom is really artistic, but she was also brought up to be… I don't know… proper, I guess? So if my grandparents ever found out she likes to cut down trees, and build furniture and stuff – things that they think a man should be doing – they wouldn't be cool with it. They're really uptight… stuck in their ways, you know?"

That's ridiculous, I want to say. She should be proud of this. I nod, instead.

"Do you… um, want anything to drink or… probably not eat, right?" He laughs a little.

"I'm fine," I say, faintly.

"Cool, okay. Wait here. Let me put this away and I'll give you a tour when I get back." Carrying the picnic basket – I hadn't even noticed he'd taken it out of the car – he heads off to what I can only assume is the kitchen. I barely have time to look around before he comes back.

"Okay, so if you'll follow me…" he says, and then takes me on a tour of his house. I really like the layout of it. The living room, kitchen, and dining room are on the left side and there are three bedrooms on the right.

"My parents' room, the monsters' rooms. She-monster has this one, and the boys have this one," he says, pointing them out. "As you can see, almost all of the furniture was done by my mother, Laura Thail originals."

"Nice," I say, smiling a bit.

He hesitates, then says, "Want to… see my room?"

My body goes hot and then cold and then hot again. "Sure," I say trying to sound casual.

My mind races at the possibilities of what that could entail and then I tell myself I'm being ridiculous. Just because Jared suddenly wants to hang out with me doesn't mean he's _interested_ like that. He's probably just being nice.

_But he did ask if I had a boyfriend_.

He's probably just making sure there's no guy waiting around a corner to thump him for being nice, I try to convince myself. Don't make too much out of it, Kim.

He leads me towards the kitchen to a door between the refrigerator and the wall. I assumed it was a pantry. He opens it to reveal… a pantry. A walk-in pantry… a walk-in pantry with a small hallway? He points down, and my eyes follow his finger down the small hallway to a trapdoor. I look at him, incredulous.

He grins, kind of sheepishly. "I live in the basement. If you're not cool with going this way, there's another entrance from outside."

I shrug. To be honest, it's kind of neat. Extremely convenient if he wants a late night snack, too. I follow him into the pantry, and he instructs me to close the door behind me. I do, but then we're plunged into total darkness. He grabs my hand – how he managed to see where my hand was – I'll never know.

"So you won't fall," he says, softly. My heart starts hammering. I don't respond.

He leads me down the small hallway and lets go of my hand to open the trapdoor.

"I'll go first. It's a ladder, not stairs, so… be careful. I'll catch you at the bottom. It's not a long way down, but… if you've never done it before… just be careful. Turn around and go backwards," he says. He must be climbing down as he talks because he's getting further and further away.

"Okay, I'm down. Turn around and go really slow," he says, again.

This is crazy. My heart pounding, I sink down to my hands and knees and turn around in the dark, knowing that at any minute I could fall into the hole. I crawl backwards slowly until my feet are over the hole and I slowly back into it and down until I make contact with the ladder. From there, it gets easier, and I climb down slowly. I've gone down about four rungs when Jared – who apparently never moved away from the ladder – shocks me by gently taking hold of my waist and physically lifting me off the ladder and setting me on the ground. Like I weigh nothing.

_Except he doesn't let go._

He just stays there, behind me in the dark, his hands on my waist. Ever so slowly, he pushes and tugs at me until I'm completely turned around facing him. His hands are still on my waist. Inwardly panicking, I don't know what to do. Is he going to kiss me? Why isn't he saying anything? God, he smells so good…

Almost of their own accord, I raise my arms up and place them on his upper arms. I'm not sure if I'm going to push him away or what – because after all, this is _Jared_ – when he suddenly comes at me. He pushes forward until my back is up against the ladder. I let out a small squeak, but the sound is cut off as his lips hit mine.

At first it's gentle and exploratory, exactly the way a first kiss is supposed to be. But all too soon, it turns into something else, something more desperate and needy. His hands clutch at my waist, so tightly it almost hurts, as his tongue pushes at my lips, forcing them to open under his mouth. I get my first taste of Jared as our tongues meet and something in my stomach tightens and releases. My body burns hot, almost feverishly. I can't stand up properly. I feel like I'm sinking, sinking into him, the ladder, the floor… I'm not sure. His hands start to move. At first, they move up my sides, and then he seems to change his mind, stop suddenly, and move them back down, further than my waist, so that they're splayed across my butt. I let out a little gasp at that, never having been touched like this before.

The sound I make only seems to encourage him, and he squeezes my butt while simultaneously pressing his body against mine. That's when I feel it – what can only be his erection pressed into the most intimate part of my body.

My first reaction is abject terror, and to my utter humiliation, I let out a small shriek and attempt to actually shove him away. It's like a bucket of freezing cold water has been thrown over me. He stops immediately and let go of me.

"S-Sorry, I… I want… I can't. Sorry, I-I…" I stammer, unable to form a complete sentence. I want to cry. This is not what I had in mind when I came over here.

Why did I come over here again?

This was a mistake, I think to myself.

"A mistake?" Jared repeats, echoing my thoughts, and horrified, I realize I've said that out loud, too.

Tears form behind my eyes. Luckily, it's dark and he can't see them. I don't trust myself to talk. I don't belong here. I don't know what I was thinking. This is Jared Thail. Jared freaking Thail and I am Kim Connweller, world's biggest virgin. What was I thinking? I should've known that's all he wanted from me…

"I… fuck. I… Kimberly, I'm sorry. I didn't think. I wasn't thinking," he stammers. "Shit. Don't cry. I didn't…. shit."

Great. He noticed. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve, all pretenses dropped. His eyes must have adjusted to the dark faster than mine.

"I'll, um… I'll take you home," he says, awkwardly. "Stay here. I'll turn the light on…"

He snaps a light on across the room, and my vision returns to me. His room is picture-perfect, of course, just like the upstairs. It's like a teenage boy's room out of a movie, complete with half-nude pictures of women on the walls and a basketball hoop tacked to the wall.

"Did you want… uh, tissue, or… anything?" he asks, sheepishly. I shake my head.

He pauses for a moment.

"This way," he says, quietly. I keep my eyes on the floor and follow him across the room to a staircase. "We'll go out this way." He leads me up the stairs to the backdoor that goes outside. Much more convenient than the ladder.

He motions for me to go in front of him, and starts to put his head on my back, but I flinch. He notices and freezes in the middle of the motion.

An awkward car ride later, we are sitting in front of my house. He apparently forgot all about my bike still at the school, but I'm too much of a coward to remind him. And besides, I don't really want to be in the car any longer than necessary.

"We're here," he practically whispers. I chance a glance at him. He's not looking at me either. Instead, he's staring at his steering wheel looking as miserable as I feel.

Probably embarrassed at the fact that he almost hooked up with me. I feel the tears coming on again.

"Th-Thank you for the ride," I choke out, and hop out of the car as if I am on fire. I grab my mini backpack. He doesn't say anything, and I don't look back as I flee into my house.

* * *

**Author's Note: I love all of your reviews and I try to reply to every single one. That might mean that I'll reply to you twice, depending on what device I check the review on. If I do that, it's by accident, and I apologize. Thank you all for reading it and loving it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

_- FadingSlowly_


	4. LOSER JERK FACE

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, have no wish to own Twilight, and do not profit monetarily from writing this fanfiction.**

* * *

**04 - LOSER JERK FACE - 04**

_**"I'm sorry Jared," I said, staring at him with sad eyes. I held out my fist and he looked at me in confusion. And a little bit of fear.**_

_**"Kimberly... what?" He stopped talking and sucked in a breath as my hand opened up to reveal a diamond ring laid flat on my palm.**_

_**"No..." he choked, eyes wide. "Kimberly, no! Don't do this! We can fix this!"**_

_**I turned away from him, unable to watch his pain. "I can't do this anymore, Jare," I whispered. Unfortunately he must have heard the tears in my voice because he crossed the short distance between us and took me into his arms with no hesitation.**_

_**"Don't do this, Kim," he said again."I can change. I can! I swear that I'll be whatever you want me to be. Just... just give us another chance. It's you and me, baby. Mister and Missus Thail, remember? Don't quit before we've even started."**_

_**With that said, he took the ring back and slid it easily onto my finger...**_

I sigh, turn the page and begin again.

_**I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I have only wanted him since like forever. It was only a matter of time before he caught on. He probably figured it would be easy, since I always look at him with goo goo eyes. He probably calls me Goo Goo Eyes Kimberly in his head and he's probably been planning this since school ended, if he even put that much thought into it. God, what he must think of me now. I can't even imagine. I don't want to imagine. Why did I freak out like that? I had Jared Thail! I had him in my hands, and I freaked and pushed him away.**_

_**I am a loser. I am the world's biggest loser and I know I'm over dramatic, but I think this calls for a little dramatics –**_

"Ugh," I say out loud in utter frustration. I suppress the urge to throw my pen across the room, as it is my favorite pen and I will probably want it later. I slam my diary shut instead, but that's not enough.

It's not nearly enough. I've never been so embarrassed and angry and… and _disappointed_ in my life. Part of me wants to run back to his house and declare myself a baby and tell him that I'm sorry and that he has my total permission to teach me what it means to be a woman even if it's just for one summer… even if it's just for one day, even. I want to tell him that I can handle it, that I overreacted and I'm sorry.

The other part of me keeps thinking about the moment I felt his… his penis through his clothes and I freak out all over again. It's not like I didn't know that was a part of his anatomy. I'm not entirely naive. I've watched the Discovery Channel, for goodness sakes. I sat through the awkward elementary school Sex Ed classes. I know what a penis is and I know where it's supposed to go, and I've even fantasized about sexual things, almost all of them starring Jared himself.

So what is my problem?

Well, to be entirely honest, first and foremost I never expected any of it to happen. Fantasies are just that – fantasies. And my fantasies are supposed to exist in my head only. For all that I talk a big game – to Jamie, mostly, and write a big game in my diary – I really, truly did not expect to ever be on the receiving end of Jared's affections.

I know it sounds crazy and maybe even the teeniest bit stalker-like, but he was like... this magical perfect being who only existed to star in my fantasies as the hero who would take me away from the boredom that is my life in Boringtown La Push, Washington. It might sound little harsh but he was entertainment, someone to moan over when I had nothing else to talk about. The more I paid attention to him, the more I noticed how nice he seemed and the more I actually liked him and started to develop crush-like feelings and the more my mom and Jamie would blow those feelings up to epic-like proportions.

Even though I've said it, am I actually _in love_ with Jared Thail? Probably not. Because let's face it, I don't really know him.

So when something happened I was nowhere near ready for it. It didn't help that it was nothing like any of my fantasies, either. Not that he isn't an amazing kisser, both in and out of my head, because he definitely is, but… the main difference, I guess, is that in my head we know each other a lot better. In my head, it's natural and easy and right and not rushed or awkward. In my head, we're in a relationship. It's not a hookup just because it's convenient. Maybe they aren't deep feelings, but my feelings for Jared are – _were?_ – real.

I swallow, feeling the tears burn behind my eyes again. And if he doesn't feel the same way, or anything at all, about me then... then I guess I don't want it –

* * *

- it to be a long walk to school without my bike, I wake up earlier than usual. For once today, I need all three alarm clocks. Or maybe I'm stalling. I groan, and force myself to get up. In the shower, I consider skipping class. I could probably get away with it after faking sick yesterday.

Though, Jared would probably think I'm an even bigger baby. I can only imagine how many of his friends he's told by now. I feel my eyes getting watery, and I blink my tears back. I am _never_ telling Jamie about this, I think, as I pull on a grey Mickey Mouse long sleeved tee-shirt and a pair of wide-legged jeans. Who cares what I look like today? Haphazardly, I pull a brush through my hair and watch it frizz beautifully in the mirror. _Of course_.

Negative thoughts cause me to be slower than usual and I have barely twenty minutes to get to school on time. And I'm walking. I seriously consider just not going. Do I even care what Jared thinks anymore?

Yes. Yes I do, but I wish I didn't.

Sighing, I skip breakfast, grab change off the counter for the vending machines, and open the front door. I blink my eyes in surprise and that mysterious boulder shows up right on time in my stomach. There, sitting in front of my house is my bike, propped up via the kickstand.

And next to it is Jared's jeep, with Jared in the driver's seat. Heart hammering, I approach the car, fully intending to state my thanks, park my bike, and head back inside the house. Maybe I'll just quit summer school all together and beg my mom to move to a new state before the school year starts.

My gratitude dies on my lips when I get to the passenger window. He has it rolled down, and when I catch sight of him, I fight the urge to gasp. He looks _awful_. Well, as awful as Jared Thail is capable of looking. It's clear he hasn't't slept all night. His eyes are bloodshot complete with dark circles.

"I'm sorry," he says, quickly, before I can say a word. "I probably deserve everything you're thinking about me in your head, but please… please get in. I need – " He interrupts himself. "No, I _want_ to talk to you."

My hesitation must be apparent because he continues, pleadingly. "If you hate me, I'm so, so sorry, but I wouldn't blame you at all. I'm an idiot. I'm really freaking stupid. I…" He takes a deep breath. "Please? Please get in?"

Against my better judgment, I open the door and climb in gingerly.

"We can go anywhere you want," he says.

"Um…" I want to say we should probably go to school, but I really don't want to, now more ever. I also really d on't want to go to his house. But I'm too nervous to bring it up and I can't think of any other place to go.

Before he can suggest any one of those, I gesture towards my house, awkwardly. "We can…" I trail off.

He hesitates, looking from my house back to me apologetically. "I can't. Um, for reasons that I can't explain to you, it would be a really bad idea for me to go in there… right now."

I just look at him. I don't even think I want to know why.

"I know that's weird," he says, practically mumbling. "Would you, ah, have you eaten? Would you want to go to the diner in Forks? I can treat you to breakfast."

To be honest, I don't know if I want to be in the car with him at all. Not because I'm uncomfortable, but because I don't know if it's a good idea for him to be driving right now. He looks worse than I feel. It doesn't help that he seems utterly distracted at the same time.

"Let's just sit outside," I say, softly. Somehow I manage to say it without stammering at all. Not that it matters much anymore.

He shoots me a surprised look. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," he says, then practically trips in his hurry to get out of the car. My exit is a little more graceful.

I head towards the front door and he follows behind me. I turn around when I reach my porch steps and am a little taken aback at how close he is. He must notice the surprised look on my face because he backs off immediately, shooting me another apologetic glance.

I sit down on the steps, and he follows my example, although I notice that he sits as far away as is humanly possible. The Kim-still-loves-Jared part of me feels a little sad, but since the steps aren't that wide, he's actually not that far. I don't know whether he feels disgusted or if he's trying to give me my space.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. "I am so fucking sorry. I… shit. Sorry for cursing."

I wrap my arms around myself, shivering suddenly. I shrug.

"I don't know what came over me yesterday," he continues, his voice low and intense as he trains his eyes on mine. "It probably sounds like I'm feeding you a line, but seriously, I didn't take you to my house for that, I swear. It would be a lie to say I wasn't, um, _thinking_ about… stuff, but I never – I never intended for what happened to happen. I'm not like that. I've never done anything like that before."

At that last statement, I surprise both of us by letting out a very unladylike snort. Then I remember myself, clasp one hand over my face and blush terribly.

"What I mean is," he continues, an amused tone to his voice, "is that it's never felt like that before. With anyone." His voice takes on that low and intense tone again. "I would never… I felt sick after. I hate that I made you cry."

Now I am uncomfortable. I break eye-contact and look at the ground instead. My face is flaming. Of course he felt sick... because I am an inexperienced baby who has no business kissing boys... especially boys in Jared's league.

"Not because I kissed you," he says, hurriedly, and I give him a startled look. There's no way I said anything out loud this time. He rushes to clarify. "I just mean if I did anything to make you feel… bad or upset, then I'm sorry. I liked kissing you, but only if you liked it, too, of course. I would never... I wouldn't... force you."

He looks sick to his stomach at the very thought and before I can fully process what I'm admitting to, I say out loud, "You didn't! You didn't force me."

He just looks at me as if he can't decide whether to believe me or not. I don't know why he wouldn't. I'm as red as a tomato, I'm sure.

"You didn't force me," I repeat, whispering it this time.

I decide right then that if we ever have another conversation after this one, I will never tell him that it was my first kiss.

"God… then you have a boyfriend, don't you?" he asks, sounding utterly and completely defeated. He says it like he already knows the answer.

"No, I don't," I say, shocked that he would come to that conclusion. "I don't have a boyfriend."

_I just didn't expect you to jump me in your bedroom._

His head snaps up and his eyes turn to me. "Really? So… if I ask you out, you would say no just because I'm a loser jerk-face, right? I don't have competition or anything?"

I just stare at him, confused. Is he asking me out again? Wait, did he just call himself a loser jerk-face?

"Did you… did you just call yourself a loser jerk-face?" I ask, giggling a bit.

"Right," he says, embarrassed. "I have younger siblings… Try to ignore my lack of mature self-inflicted insults."

That just makes me laugh some more. He smiles in response.

"I have a bunch of them," he says, kind of sheepishly. "Remind me to tell you a few sometime. The monsters can get really creative when they're mad. Especially when they're mad at me."

I grin, suddenly wanting very badly to meet the 'monsters.'

"So..." he says, his tone switching back to nervousness. "That's the second time I kind of asked you out and you haven't uh... said anything."

Oh. So he was asking me out. Oh my god, wait. He was asking me out. He _is_ asking me out. Jared Thail is actually _asking me out._

"Am I pushing...? I'm pushing, aren't I?" he asks, looking panicked at the thought.

Before I can process this thoroughly or force my lips to move and make sound behind them, my cell phone buzzes loudly in my pocket. I jump as my heart violently slams into my ribcage.

Very careful to avoid looking at Jared, I shakily put my phone out of my pocket. It's a number I don't recognize.

"Hey," Jared says, surprise evident in his tone. He scoots closer to me and reads my cell phone screen. "That's my mom's number. Why is she calling you? There's no way she knows where I am."

Strangely that statement hurts a little and I have no idea why.

I shrug. The phone rings once more and stops. It goes to voicemail. I chance a glance in Jared's direction. He's looking at me expectantly.

Oh, right. He wants an answer. My blush comes back tenfold. I honestly don't know what to say.

The phone rings again. I look down. Same number.

I look at Jared again.

"Don't tell her I'm here?" he asks, smiling sheepishly.

I answer it. "Hello?"

_"Hello, Kimberly? This is Laura Thail, Jared's mother. How are you sweetheart? I heard you went home early yesterday. Feeling any better?"_

"Um, a little," I say, truthfully. Or at least, I'm feeling better since last night.

_"Glad to hear it. The reason I'm calling, Kimberly, is to let you know that if you're going to miss class, you need to have your mom call me, or the school directly. It's the same rules as year round, understand?"_

"Yes," I reply, softly.

_"Good. I couldn't reach your mom... is this number... 284 555 9035, correct? That's the one I have on file for her cell phone."_

I open my mouth to confirm it when I feel a warm hand sliding over my mouth. I stare at Jared with shocked eyes.

_'Lie,'_ he mouths. He removes his hand.

"Um," I stammer. "Sh-She's at work r-r-right now."

_"That's alright, dear. Just have her call me. I assume you won't be in today?"_

Jared shakes his head emphatically.

"N-No."

_"Alright then, I'll write that down. Just remember, same rules apply! Another absence and the school is going to need a doctor's note. Feel better, Kimberly. Hopefully I'll see you back and well tomorrow!"_

Without waiting for me to respond, she hangs up with a click.

"I wonder why she hasn't called me yet?" Jared wonders out loud. "Maybe she doesn't know I'm not there."

Meanwhile I'm having trouble breathing because he's so close. I get a flash in my head of yesterday, pressed up against the ladder. _In his room... in the dark... his hands touching me, squeezing me, pulling my pelvis closer to his hard -_

"My mom won't let me date!" I blurt out in an attempt to stop the images. It works. It's also a complete and utter lie and I have no idea where it came from.

"You're kidding," he says, after a moment. "Seriously?"

_No, not seriously! I don't even know why I said that! _I avoid his gaze, but nod.

"Well, that's... um... that is... really unexpected," he says awkwardly. "Wow."

"Yeah," I say softly.

"Is there anyway I - or you - could change her mind?" he asks, with a half-smile. "Because I would really like to take you out sometime."

I'm surprised I haven't started hyperventilating.

"Is it... is it because of someone... in your past?" he asks carefully. "Did someone treat you badly before?"

"N-No," I stammer. "It's just, I can... I can only have fr-friends."

What am I doing? _What_ am I _doing_?

"Oh," he exhales. "Okay. When are you allowed to date?"

_Now! I can date right now! But for reasons I don't entirely understand I'm being a crazy person and saying no to you!_

I shrug.

"Oh," he says again. "Okay."

"I can have friends," I say again, softly.

"Friends," he echoes.

I cannot imagine why he would look so disappointed. He doesn't even know me. Now he can call that girl he hung up on the other day... or something. Miserably, I close my eyes and lean back, the edge of my porch step jutting into my back.

"I can do the friend thing," he says.

I nod, eyes still closed.

"I _can_," he insists, as if I'm arguing with him.

I can't imagine why he would want to.

"Okay," I say as I open my eyes.

He's really close, practically touching me. He's not looking at me, but somehow I can tell he's still paying attention to every move I make -

* * *

" - make some kind of food substance, if it's the last thing I ever do!" My mother waves the mixing whisk around like a crazy person. "It is my duty as a _woman_ - "

"That's sexist," I say, attempting to grab the whisk out of her hand. I succeed and start to lick the cookie dough off.

"Men can bake cakes, too. You watch that show, that Emeril guy. I've seen you," I accuse through a mouthful of dough.

She makes a face at me and snatches the whisk back. I glare.

"Don't, there are raw eggs in there," she scolds. "And fine, it's my duty as a _mother_ then not to send you into the world unprepared and unable to take care of yourself."

"Knowing how to make cookies is the key to taking care of myself?" I say, hoisting myself backwards onto the kitchen counter.

"What if all of the microwaves in the world suddenly went extinct?"

I laugh. "They're not a species, Mom! It's a kitchen appliance."

"Okay, okay, listen!" she says. "What if aliens came down and stole all of the microwaves in the world and you had no money to buy anything and all you had was uncooked ingredients? What would you _do_?"

I roll my eyes. "I highly doubt - "

"Kimmy, be serious!" she insists.

"Fine, okay. I'll pay attention. And if anyone asks me in the future why this is the only thing I ever learned how to make, don't think I won't repeat this story," I mutter.

She 'squees' and claps her hands like a little girl. I sigh. If only my conversation with Jared earlier had been this painless...

"Mom?"

"Ye-es?" she singsongs, still reveling in her 'victory.'

"I'm not allowed to date, right?" I ask in my most innocent voice.

"What? What are you talking about? Of course you can date!" she says, excitedly. "Why? Did someone - ?"

"Mom, no, listen," I say quickly. I should've known she would react this way.

She gasps. "Don't tell me! Jared - "

"Mom, I _cannot_ date," I interrupt.

"Kim, don't be ridiculous. You're a responsible young woman. I trust you to make smart decisions. Now, who's the guy?"

She trusts me? I'm not sure I trust myself.

"I shouldn't be allowed to date, Mom," I try again in my most patient voice. "At this age, my hormones are running rampant. It's nice that you trust me, but I don't know if I trust myself."

She just grins at me. "Uh huh. Who's the guy?"

I sigh. "There's no one."

"Lies."

"If I tell you, will you promise me that if anyone asks, you'll tell them I'm not allowed to date?"

"Yeah, yeah, rampant hormones... who is it?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "It's Jared." Even though I'm trying to be stern here I can't help the tell-tale blush that forms when I say his name out loud.

She lets out a whoop of joy.

"_Mom_," I whine, covering my ears.

"I don't get it. Now you _don't_ want to date Jared? I thought you loved him."

"Love is a strong word," I say, wincing a bit.

She smirks.

"It's complicated," I say, blushing some more.

"It's _Jared Thail_."

"It's _complicated_," I repeat.

"When you were in kindergarten you told me you were going to marry him."

"I'm pretty sure I didn't," I mutter, completely embarrassed now. "Seriously, Mom, can you just... promise me you won't tell anyone I'm allowed to date?"

"I won't, but - "

"Mom, _promise_."

"Okay, I promise, I won't!" She continues to grin in that knowing way.

"Cookies!" I say, avoiding eye contact.

"Embarrassed, self-conscious, adorable," she says to describe me.

"Nosy, pushy, annoying!" I shoot back to describe her.

She laughs and I stick my tongue out. We go back to making cookies, but try as I might to be rid of him, my head is still full of Jared -

* * *

_**- Jared said as he pulled me into his warm, loving embrace.**_

_**I disentangled from him, gently. "Yes, I decided to give you another chance. But only as friends."**_

_**"But... we're already married. That makes no sense. Please, Kimberly - "**_

_**He gave me his patented puppy dog stare that normally made me melt into a puddle of goo. The good kind of goo.**_

_**"Not this time, Jare," I said, closing my eyes so that I could think clearly. "You know I will always love you, but our love is childish, just a dream. I'm giving us a chance to build something real."**_

_**"So you want us to start over?" He said, confused. "You want us to fall in love all over again?"**_

_**I nodded and he looked crestfallen."It might sound a little crazy, but I want to give this thing a real shot."**_

_**He got up off the couch and crossed the room in thought. I didn't say anything. I gave him a moment to collect himself.**_

_**"It's going to be agony," he said. "Being around you. Not being able to touch you..."**_

_**"It's just hormones, Jare," I whispered.**_

_**He was quiet for another minute.**_

_**"I don't need to think about it," he said. "Of course I want to be with you however I can. Maybe one day we can be together again?"**_

_**"Of course," I murmured. "There's only you for me. No one else. I hope you know that."**_

_**"I do. Before we... take this break... just allow me to kiss you one more time," he pleaded.**_

_**"Of course," I repeated. "We have tonight. Just for tonight I'll be yours. One last time."**_

_**"One last time," he whispered.**_

_**Then he crossed the room, took me into his arms and we spent the night, setting ourselves up for a wonderful future.**_

I smile to myself, close my diary, and shove it under my pillow. Then I turn out my light and go to sleep.

* * *

_- FadingSlowly_

**Author's Note: Questions? Comments? Do share!**

**Also, I'm re-posting chapter 1. There are some typos in there that are consistent with Phased that I forgot to remove before posting it for this story. No one's said anything, but I caught it when I was rereading the other day...  
**


	5. SO COMPLETELY UNCOMFORTABLE

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, have no wish to own Twilight, and do not profit monetarily from writing this fanfiction.**

* * *

05 – SO COMPLETELY UNCOMFORTABLE – 05

Thursday morning I shuffle to the bathroom sleepily, suffering the effects of a chocolate-chip cookie hangover. I am confronted with a note on the bathroom door in my mother's pretty cursive handwriting:

_**Kimmy-bunny, mail for you on the kitchen counter. Mommy loves you!**_

A trillion "X's" and "O's" follow after that. I don't know whether to roll my eyes at her childlike tendencies or to smile, so I do a weird combination of both and catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. With my bed hair I look kind of crazed.

I wonder what Jared looks like with bed hair, I wonder absently as I jump in the shower. Yes, I know I told him friends only, but I'm allowed to dream. I've been doing it for _this_ long.

Still ensconced in daydream mode, I make my way downstairs to a postcard waiting on the kitchen counter. On the front is a dazzling picture of two candy hearts, and I feel completely silly, but for a moment I think it's from Jared.I turn it over to see Jamie's girly handwriting insteead, complete with heart-dotted "I's."

_**Kim! You are a serious poopface for not joining me on this awesome adventure! I met a guy. His name is Liam and he's TOTES ADORBS! He makes your Jared look like a toad. Not even joking. I would send a picture but he's a butt and is shy like you. Speaking of youuu, I MISS YOUR FACE. Write me back, loser. If Liam stops kissing me for long enough, I might even write you again. **_

_**Me Love You Long Time! **_

_**- Melinda-Jae**_

This time I do roll my eyes. Not only at the content of the letter, but also that there's no return address. Typical Jamie. I note that there aren't nearly as many "X's" and "O's" on this postcard either compared to my mom's note, meaning my mom probably read it and is overcompensating.

Oh, well.

I grab some bread, toast it, and head out of the door.

I arrive at the school early again, but because Jared convinced me to lie to his mom, I sneak around the back to avoid her. Eventually I'm going to have to confess to my mom that I skipped school, although Jared also insisted that his mom has a horrible memory for phone calls and won't remember that I need an excused absence.

Still, I'm not the type to risk confrontation.

I don't even bother making myself slow down as I speed walk around the corner where the snack machines are.

I get to the classroom, open the door, and freeze.

_No one is here._

My first thought is that class is cancelled and no one told me.

I go back into the hallway expecting to read my third note of the day, but there's nothing on the door. I check the time on my cell. 9:30.

Confused, I walk slowly towards the front of the building. Jared's mom is here sitting in her usual seat. I don't let her see me, but I see that there are not any signs or anything to indicate that class is cancelled. Maybe he's just not coming today...

Too nervous to ask, I trudge back to the classroom disappointed. I decide to just wait until 10:00 AM. If no one shows -

* * *

- shows up on time, except Jared. He is nowhere to be seen. Mrs. Najera doesn't seem to be especially worried, so I force myself to pay attention and put his absence out of my mind. I have a surprising amount of work to catch up on, anyways.

After school, I jump on my bike and pedal home, intending to get a head start on my homework. I get a text from my mom as soon as I get into the front door explaining that she has some after-hours work to do and she'll be home a little later than usual.

It's kind of good, I figure. It's a little lonely as well, but this way I won't have any distractions.

I kick off my shoes, change into more comfortable clothes and pop a frozen dinner into the microwave. I dig my calculator out of my mini backpack, open my textbook, and get to work. A million math problems later, I have a headache and vow to never miss another summer school class again.

I check my phone, but as far as I know Jared doesn't have my number, so I realize it's kind of pointless.

The next day is Friday and I let myself have the luxury of sleeping in a little bit. My theory is that if I get to school on time and Jared is there, then maybe I can have lunch with him, and if he's not there, at least I won't be in the classroom super early by myself. I put on an oversized shirt with leggings and a tank top underneath and throw my hair into a ponytail.

I really, really hope Jared is there today.

I heat up poptarts in the microwave, as I firmly believe they taste better that way than making them in a toaster, gobble them down, and head out of the door.

This time I enter through the front doors like a normal person, although my heart is pounding a little from having to face Jared's mom. She doesn't say a word, though, just smiles and waves like usually as I head past her towards the classroom. _Huh, Jared was right_.

I get to the classroom at the same time as Mrs. Najera and she smiles at me and gestures for me to go ahead of her.

"Oh, Kimberly, I wanted to talk to you about something," she says as I walk into class. Everyone else – _except Jared_ – is already there.

I try to mask my disappointment as I turn to face Mrs. Najera.

"Jared isn't going to be here today," she says as we both walk up to her desk.

Face immediately reddening, I wonder if she's read my mind, but she continues talking.

"I'm proposing a project to the class due in a week and I noticed that you and Jared are friends. It's a partnership project, and I wondered if you wouldn't mind teaming up with him? Since he hasn't been here, I'll give you two an extra weekend to get everything done, so instead of turning it in next Friday, you'll have until next Monday."

Blushing, I nod, and say faintly, "Sure, that's fine."

As if I would really say no.

She smiles, "Thanks, Kim. I knew you would be a team player."

I turn to go to my desk, but my curiosity is piqued now, and I turn back to her.

"Um… d-do you know where Jared is?" I ask. "Is he sick?"

Her entire face changes to pity. "No, you haven't heard? Harry Clearwater's niece was involved in an accident in the woods, and Jared works with him and Sam Uley. Everyone's pretty devastated, so he's just helping do damage control. My son is helping out, too. I don't know if you know Paul. He's a little older than you."

"N-No, I hadn't heard about that," I say. I want to ask what happened that was so serious that Jared would have to miss school, but I don't want to seem too nosy.

I sat down more curious than I was before. I know of both Paul Najera and Sam Uley by reputation only. I had seen them around, but Paul was one grade above me, and all I really knew about him was that he had turned Jamie down for a date once. She pretty much hates him. He also has kind of a reputation as a bad boy with an aggressive attitude. He's so the complete opposite of his mom that I completely forgot they were related.

All I know about Sam Uley is that he graduated a little while ago and his mom passed away, leaving him with no other living relatives that anyone knew of. His dad took off when he was little, and he had planned to marry his high school sweetheart before dumping her for someone else earlier this summer. It caused kind of a scandal because apparently the two girls are related and my mom heard rumors of a secret affair from the diner, but it's none of my business, so I honestly didn't think much of it.

I didn't even know Jared was friends with them, but I guess if he works in Harry Clearwater's store, it kind of makes sense.

Still, though, I wonder what was important enough that _Jared_ would have to miss school. From what Mrs. Najera said, it doesn't seem like he is directly involved.

I'm so wrapped up in thinking about this that by the time class is over, I've convinced myself to just get on my bike and go see Jared at the Clearwater's store. I'm relieved that he's not sick, but I don't think I can go the entire weekend wondering what's going on… or, if I'm totally honest, just not being able to see him.

And I'm _not_ being stalker-ish. I totally have a reason. We're partners for our school project.

At least, I try to convince myself of that.

I get on my bike and pedal towards the store. I've never been inside before because it's a store for people who like to fish – which we have a lot of on the reservation – and I'm not exactly one of them.

I arrive at the store, heart pounding, and get off my bike trying to convince myself that this is okay and that he's _not_ going to think I'm totally weird, and that this project is important and no it cannot wait until Monday.

I take a deep breath and decide to stall for time for a little bit by leaning my bike against the side of the building. I walk around the corner and stop in my tracks, startled.

There's already someone here. A girl sits on the ground, her back to the brick wall. Her face is in her hands and she's clearly crying. Before I can decide what to do, she looks up, her face tear-streaked, and I see she's about the same age as I am, maybe a little older.

"Hi, sorry, this is embarrassing," she says, through sniffles.

"It's okay," I say, embarrassed enough for both of us. "I can leave."

"No, you don't have to. Did you want to leave your bike here? You can. I won't mess with it," she says, wiping her tears away.

"It's fine. I c-can put it around… the other side," I say. I turn to leave, but something stops me. I turn around again. "Um… are you… okay? D-Do you need to use my phone?"

She shakes her head, and laughs a little. Then, her face crumples and the laugh turns into a sob. "I'm okay," she says, though clearly she's not. "I-I just… why are all guys the same?"

I blink. "Um…"

She continues, cutting me off, though I don't even know what I was going to say.

"He said he just wanted to have fun, and he wasn't looking for anything serious, and he's sorry he gave me the wrong idea," she blurts out.

"I see…" I say, awkwardly.

"We only went on one date, but he was _so_ nice and _sweet_ and _funny_ and I really thought he _liked_ me and I don't know what I did wrong. I asked if it was someone else and he said no, but I know it is. It _has_ to be." She breaks her cry to laugh again and shakes head. "I'm sorry, you can go. You probably think I'm stupid."

"N-No," I say, quickly. "It's f-fine… if you need to talk…"

"This just _always_ happens to me. _Always_. I meet someone and they ask me out, not even the other way around, and then they dump me like the next day. I just don't _get_ it."

I feel sorry for her, but I don't know what to do. I've never been in this situation before. Jamie always just promised 'vengeance on their souls' and moved on, and the only guy I've really liked is –

"I just thought Jared was different," she says, and the second her name slips out of his mouth, my heart stops.

My grip tightens on my bike. My blood runs cold.

_His name is Jared?_ I want to ask, but I'm frozen in place. She has to be the girl who was on the phone the other day… _the one Jared hung up on_.

"I guess it's true what they say, huh? Don't mix business with pleasure," she says, sadly. "I can't even work here anymore. Every time I see him or think about him, I end up like _this_. I only came here to quit this job, but he's in there, so I left. He didn't even see me. I'll just call the store after hours and leave a message for Mr. Clearwater. It's a sucky way to quit your job, but it's _weird_ now."

She looks at me expectantly, but I have no words. I can't even imagine what my face must look like.

"Thanks for listening. My name is Karen, by the way. I probably should have said that first," she laughs bitterly again.

I can't even bring myself to reply. I just nod. I've never been so completely uncomfortable before in my life.

Then, knowing I'm being rude, I abruptly get on my bike and pedal around the corner unsteadily, just narrowing missing hitting someone's car.

"Hey!" the driver shouts at me, out of his or her open window, but I don't look back.

I pedal just far enough away that I'm sure Karen or that driver can't come after me - not that they would, but I'm kind of freaking out now. I get off my bike and walk it for a while.

Jared was really dating someone? I had kind of put the mystery girl out of my mind, but now that she has a name and a face… I shake my head. It's okay, I try to tell myself. You told him just friends, remember?

_But he kissed me._

He hung out with me while he was with her, ignoring her phone calls and texts, probably. He broke up with her after one date, after saying he only wanted to have fun.

_Did he only want to have fun with me, too?_

Is that what we were doing in his basement bedroom? Having fun?

My phone vibrates in my pocket, making me jump. Part of me panics that it's Jared before I remember that doesn't have my cell phone number.

It's my mom.

"Hello?" I say, trying to sound as normal as is possible.

"_Hey Kimmy-bunny!"_ she says, happily. _"Got a proposition for you. How would you like to - ?"_

Before she can continue, I interrupt. "Mom, what happened with Harry Clearwater's niece? Did you hear anything at the diner?"

"_That's actually partly what I'm calling about. Charlie Swan, the chief of police in Forks was there, and apparently there have been bear sightings in the woods. Do _not_ ride your bike through there, Kim. I know you take those shortcuts sometimes. In fact, where are you? I can come pick you up."_

"No, no it's fine, I'm not in the woods," I say, quickly. "Mom, is Mr. Clearwater's niece okay? Did she see a bear?"

"_It's… worse, actually. She was attacked by one. It's pretty terrible. The whole family is devastated."_

My blood runs cold for the second time that day.

"_Listen, Bunny, come home. I know I'm probably overreacting, but I'll feel better once you're here."_

For once, I don't argue with her. I say goodbye, hang up, and get on my bike –

* * *

- bike on the front lawn, my mom already has the front door open.

"Oh, good," she says, as she comes down the porch steps. I note that she has two suitcases in her hands and she heads to the car.

"Where - ?"

"This is why I called initially. I'm being called to a conference for the hotel this weekend in Port Angeles. Free room and board," she says. "Come with me."

To be honest, normally I would say no to this type of thing, or I would ask if Jamie could come with me because it sounds totally boring to sit in a hotel room all weekend doing nothing. And I'm not exactly the type to venture out on my own. But I'm not all that anxious to sit home alone and mope, or think about bears roaming around the reservation.

And I know if I don't go, my mom will both call and cancel or she'll call me a dozen times every day until she comes back. My mom wouldn't force me to go. She rarely makes me to do anything I don't want to do. She says she trusts my judgment and doesn't believe that in that method of parenting.

Forcing myself to put Jared out of my mind, I say yes, she claps her hands happily like a little kid, and then rushes me to pack my things –

* * *

- things away in the hotel room. It's a really nice room, too. Two double beds _and_ free internet.

"Okay, I have to check in downstairs and I think I'm having dinner with the company. That means _no room service tonight_ because although I'm allowed to bring you, I'm not paying for this room. They are. If you want food, here's your cardkey for the door and take twenty out of my purse. Or order pizza, or Chinese food. But _no room service_," she says. "And no ordering movies either."

"_Okay_, Mom, I got it," I say a little impatiently.

She leaves after shooting me an uncharacteristically motherly look, and I chicken out about leaving the hotel room. Instead, I order pizza and turn on the television to the Lifetime Movie channel. My mom got me hooked on this once, and it's a great way to not think about Jared –

* * *

- Jared dreams all night playing in my head back to back. We were characters in a Lifetime Movie. _Of course_.

By the time I wake up completely, my mom is gone and there's a note pinned to a fifty dollar bill.

_**Didn't have time to grab you breakfast, Bunny, but turn this note over and follow the map. There's a great coffee shop about two blocks away from here. Don't forget your cardkey! This fifty is to last you for food and whatever else ALL DAY, so no crazy shopping, okay? We'll spend time together tomorrow?**_

_**Love you! XOXOXOXO**_

I sigh, but I knew it was going to be like this, so there's nothing to say and no one to say it to. I check my phone feeling kind of silly. No calls, no texts, nothing.

_He still doesn't have your number, Kim. Stop torturing yourself._

I take a long shower, get dressed, and head out of the door, making sure to grab my diary and the cardkey.

I find the coffee shop easily, pay for a large cup of coffee and a muffin and sit down in one of the back corners. The ambience is really nice in this place and it's nice and quiet, exactly what I had hoped for. The coffee's not half bad, either.

I open my diary to a fresh page.

_**I approached the living room slowly, so as to not startle him. He didn't even notice, as engrossed as he was in the television screen.**_

_**I looked up to see what he was looking at and I couldn't even fault him. She was beautiful as she leapt and jumped around on the stage.**_

_**It was an old video, having been shot in black and white, but the lack of color didn't distract or take away from her obvious beauty and grace in the slightest. She was brilliant, beautiful, and everything else that I wasn't. Never having been any kind of dancer, I couldn't put words to the moves that she was pulling off, but I knew that whatever she was doing, she was doing a fantastic job.**_

_**It didn't take an expert to see that.**_

"_**She's wonderful," I said, softly, announcing my presence.**_

_**He jumped, and I got a little sad. He really didn't notice that I was standing there. He picked up the remote really quickly and paused the television, then he looked at me with the guiltiest face imaginable, like he had really been caught doing something wrong.**_

_**That just made me feel even worse.**_

"_**She's alright," he said, nonchalantly. But I knew he was lying.**_

"_**It's okay, Jare," I said, trying to smile. "You can tell me the truth. You think she's lovely."**_

"_**I **_**did**_**," he said, and my heart broke a little bit. "But she doesn't hold a candle to you, Kimberly."**_

"_**She's Karenina Palovena," I said, disbelievingly. "She's a world class ballet champion."**_

"_**What we have is ancient history," he insisted. "I only have eyes for you now. I swear –**_

"Excuse me?"

I look up to see a tall, dark haired girl standing next to my table. She has a crochet hat on her head, a pretty spring dress with a jean jacket over it. She's black and what I can see of her hair is in a complicated, but pretty braided design. She has black personality glasses with no lenses. She's holding a laptop under one arm and has a messenger bag hooked onto the other shoulder.

"Hi," she says, smiling. "I don't mean to interrupt. I'm a writer, too, so I know how it is when you're onto something. I don't want to take you out of your moment, so I'll be quick. My name is Shavon, and I started this youth group for high school students. Are you in high school?"

I nod, but before I can explain that I'm just visiting for the weekend, she keeps talking.

"Well, it's for ages thirteen to nineteen, and it's a writing group. You should check it out. We're working on cards, but don't quite have all that together yet. Anyways, we were looking to start sort of a literary magazine. I can give you my information…" she trails off, places her laptop on the table.

"I actually don't… um, I don't live here," I say.

"Oh, it's for anyone," she says, as she writes her information on a notepad she found in her bag. "We're not exclusive. We meet every three weeks, share stories or poems, or anything we've written, swap things, edit them for each other, and try to get them published. We've gotten articles published before, too. It's actually pretty cool."

I go bright red at the thought of getting my diary published. "I d-don't think – " I start to say, stammering, but she interrupts.

"Of course, if what you're writing is private, we encourage you to change names around. Turn fact into fiction and all that. And if it's _really_ private, you don't have to feel pressured to share. Just come. You might find that you like it more than you think you will. We don't bite, I promise. We're not even that big of a group right now," Shavon continues. "I just think that anyone who is that intense about writing the way you just were probably has a lot to say, is all."

I just look at her.

"Anyways, I'll leave you alone. I hope I didn't make you lose any ideas!" she says, picking her laptop back up. She points to a sticky note on the table. "Get in touch with me and I'll email you all of the information. We fellow writers have to help each other out! Nice meeting you, bye!"

I pick the sticky note from the table. Her email address is up there, along with a phone number and her name. _Shavon Sanai_.

I look down at my diary. It's highly unlikely that I'll ever call her or email her, but for whatever reason I don't destroy the note.

It's interesting. I never thought of myself as a writer. I just like to make up stories starring Jared and me. It's fun and a stress reliever, but getting something actually published? The thought of it makes me shudder.

Even if I were to change the names and the places and everything, it's still way too telling. And besides, my writing isn't even that good. It's just dabbles. Fantasy. Already fiction. And the idea of anyone ever reading it makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I shake my head. No way. Never. Not in a million years.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry about the wait, guys. I was in the hospital for a while, and I started a second job, so I've been crazy busy. I'm okay, though! Hope you like the chapter, though I know it's Jared-lacking, but believe me when I say it does serve a purpose. Don't worry! He'll be back in the next one.

_- FadingSlowly_


	6. OVERLY INDECENT EXPOSURE

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, have no wish to own Twilight, and do not profit monetarily from writing this fanfiction.**

* * *

06 – OVERLY INDECENT EXPOSURE – 06

My mom figured out that things weren't quite right with me when she attempted to spend time with me on Sunday, so she spent the day thinking up ways to make me smile. We checked out of the hotel, got a late breakfast of miniature blueberry muffins at the same coffee shop where I met Shavon the previous day, then before we left the city we went to a movie matinee and made fun of how overly dramatic the acting was. We also did some light shopping, which was a nice surprise.

I really love and appreciate my mom so much more than she knows. I would never tell Jamie this because she would think it was totally lame and probably be secretly jealous, but although I delegate the title of 'best friend' to Jamie, I'm pretty sure my mom actually occupies that position.

We got home around five and although the day had been great, I couldn't help but think about Jared more and more as we got closer to La Push. I was a goner once we crossed the borderline, and totally in-Jared-world as we arrived at the house. My mom didn't ask me any questions, just asked me to carry my bags in, and left me to it.

Which brings me to now. I am currently checking to see if we have messages. I know it's pretty pathetic of me, but I can't help but wonder about where he is and what he's doing. I wonder if Karen worked up the nerve to go into the store after all and if she did, I wonder if she and Jared talked, and if they did, I wonder what they talked about.

I have to stop thinking about this, but I really can't help it.

I'm all caught up with homework, so I have nothing to do to distract myself until tomorrow –

* * *

- tomorrow came entirely too fast.

I'm up early and I'm staring into my closet trying to figure out what to wear. This is ridiculous. I should not be basing my entire wardrobe choices on a boy I'm not even sure about… a boy I told I only wanted to be friends.

But here I am… basing away.

I shake my head at myself, smile and choose a pretty spring dress that I got on the shopping trip yesterday. I pair this with some spandex shorts so that I am still able to ride my bike without any fear of overly indecent exposure. I top it off with a bow in my hair – it frizzed quite beautifully this morning – that matches the ballet flats on my feet. I look in the mirror and give myself an A-. Not supermodel pretty, but I like what I see.

Humming, I bounce down the stairs and put a bagel in the toaster. I take my time eating it and remind myself silently to do things like chew and swallow. I tell myself that if I'm patient the universe will reward me with Jared's presence in class. I know I'm being silly, but whatever.

I grab my mini-backpack, make sure everything I need is in there and leave the house. I take two steps down the porch steps, and stumble the rest of the way because I look up and notice that Jared is sitting in front of my house in his jeep.

My mouth drops open a little bit. I was not expecting that.

Recovering quickly, I start to make my way to the passenger side, but his door opens and he rushes around to where I am.

Before I can say hello or anything else of significance, he engulfs me in a hug. I was not expecting _that_, either. He's warm. Incredibly warm. _Just like when he kissed me in his basement room_.

I feel my heartbeat begin to speed up. Very slowly, I lift my arms to hug him back, tentatively. This is okay. Friends do this, I tell myself. I touch his back and he holds me tighter for a few seconds. I feel like I'm melting. A simple hug shouldn't feel this good.

It lasts just long enough, so that it's not uncomfortable or awkward, then he lets go. His reluctance is very real and fills me with warm butterflies.

"Hey," he says, kind of sheepishly. "I hope that was okay."

I nod, blushing a bit, and hoping he doesn't notice.

He opens the passenger door for me.

"I thought I'd give you a ride to school today, if you want one?" he asks, looking kind of embarrassed. "I can give you a ride home, too, if that's okay. Or we can take your bike? It's up to you."

I give him a small smile. "Thank you for the ride," I say, shyly, proud because I manage to not stutter.

He grins at me and then closes the car door. He runs around to his side, climbs and starts to drive.

"You know…" he starts, nonchalantly. "I went this whole weekend and kept thinking about how I don't have your phone number. Why is that?"

I shrug, recognizing his tone for a joking one. He gives me a sidelong glance.

"You never asked," I say, softly.

He smiles. "You know it's because I'm an idiot, right? Not because I didn't want your number. Because I totally want your number. I just forgot to ask," he says, seriously.

I don't know what to say to that, so I just nod.

"Hey, Kimberly?" he says, his voice a little quieter. "I… uh, I missed you this weekend."

I don't know what to say to that, either. I think about this weekend and I think about the writing group. And then I think about Karen.

"Is that okay?" he asks, steadily not looking at me. I risk a glance at him. "Is it okay that I said that?" He's clutching the steering wheel with his right hand, tense.

I don't know what to say, but I don't know how to answer without bringing up Karen and Mr. Clearwater's store, and I feel really awkward and it's probably none of my business, but it kind of is. I hate confrontation.

"I met someone," I blurt out, instead. And immediately I wish I could take it back because it completely was not what I meant to say, though it is true, but I'm thinking of Shavon and the writing group and it came out all wrong.

He's not expecting that. His hand tightens on the steering wheel. I hear a crunch and my eyes widen. There are visible cracks in the steering wheel.

"Shit," he mutters. "I don't get paid until next Friday."

Neither of us says anything else until we get to the school.

My heart is pounding as he parks and kills the engine. We have about ten minutes to get to class. He doesn't move to get out of the jeep and neither do I. It's incredibly awkward and I want someone to end the silence and I want to explain, but I don't know how to start.

"We should go in," he finally says after a full minute of silence. I feel terrible.

_Say something!_ I urge myself. _Say something now!_

"Shavon Sa-Sanei," I stammer quickly as he puts his hand on the door handle.

He turns back to me, clearly confused.

"I… I met her… this weekend. In Port Angeles. Sh-She wanted me to join her wr-writing group. In… In a coffee sh-shop," I stutter, my face flaming.

He looks at me for a few more seconds, and I swear I can see the relief on his face before it turns to curiosity. "Really?" he asks. "You like to write?"

Inwardly, I panic because I just cannot see how to explain this to him, and we're coming way too close to the subject of my diary. I cannot allow that to happen.

I just nod and hope he reads my embarrassment enough to drop the subject. He looks like he wants to ask more, but we really do have to go inside or risk being late together. And with his mom sitting right there in the front hall, that will look pretty bad.

We exchange numbers before we get out of the car, though.

"Is it cool if I text you?" he asks as we hurry through the hall to class. "You won't get charged by the number of texts or anything, will you?"

"No, my texting is unlimited," I assure him.

He holds the door open for me. "Awesome!" he says, grinning, which makes me smile a bit, too –

* * *

" – too difficult or anything," he says, while looking over the directions for the partnered project.

It's our lunch break and we jokingly opted to stay at school this time.

"I don't get the part about the one-page paper, though," he says, his forehead crinkling. He scoots closer to me on the courtyard steps so that our shoulders are touching and shows me the part on the paper. I have a sudden urge to lean into him. The strength of it kind of scares me. I don't scoot away, though, because he would notice and probably take it the wrong way.

"We have to write down all of the dimensions," I practically whisper, my heartbeat somewhat erratic. "And include practical things like a washer and dryer. She said she would rather have a bulleted list, than paragraphs."

"So we're doing this like… what? Like it's the future and we live together?" he asks, looking up at me.

He's way too close. And this project is suddenly hitting way too close to home.

What we're supposed to do is make a three-dimensional model of a one-story house that two people could actually live in, similar to how people make mazes for rats. The dimensions should be perfect and true to scale if somebody were to expand it to real life size. We have to include at least one bedroom, a living room, a dining room, two bathrooms, a washer and dryer, a kitchen, and include actual closets. There has to be a utility closet somewhere, and we have to include doors and windows. It doesn't have to be in color, but Mrs. Najera did say that creativity would be nice. She doesn't want us looking up blueprints online and just copying them down. She wants us to actually come up with something ourselves. We can even include a garage if we want. Our house can be as big as we want, as long as it's only one-story and true to scale.

Anything involving blueprints reminds me of The Sims. And my Jared-Sim, and how he lives in my Kim and Jared house. And how the real Jared will never find out or else I might just possibly die of embarrassment.

But he just said 'like it's the future and we live together.' Is he picturing us _living together_ in the future? And he said it so nonchalantly, too, like it's not even a big deal!

It's _not_ a big deal, Kim, I tell myself. You're overanalyzing again… and taking way too long to answer the question.

"Y-Yes," I say, quickly. He's nonchalant, so I can pretend his words don't affect me, either. And, honestly, they shouldn't.

"Cool," he says, flashing me a smile that makes my stomach twist into knots. "Do you want to come over today? I'm not working or anything. I'm free until about six if you want to work on this."

The question catches me off guard, though I can't see a reason not to.

His basement room and Karen's face expression loom in my mind. Oh, right. Both of those are reasons not to.

Then I remember his weirdness about going to my house and I wonder if that's still an issue.

"We have until… um, next Monday," I say instead of answering his question.

His hopeful face expression falls a little bit.

"Right. You're right. Why rush?" he asks in a forced attempt at cheerfulness.

I feel bad. Maybe I'm being _too_ cautious. I mean, I did say I wanted to be friends. This is not how a friend is supposed to act. I know I'm only being weird because I don't know how to be friends with him. He's _Jared Thail_, as my mom so delicately – yet, so accurately – put it.

"No, I mean, I was just telling you," I say, lamely. "You can come over if you want. Today." I kind of ignore the invitation to his house, and I have to admit, part of me expects him to let me off the hook by refusing to go into my house again.

But he doesn't.

"Yeah?" he says, a little hesitantly.

Mentally, I try to remember if the house is clean enough to invite anyone over. Jamie is the only person I've really had over before and she never cares, but again, this is Jared.

"Sure," I say, taking a chance. And because I don't want to see his sad face expression again. I am kind of being stubborn, though. Clearly, he is trying to get to know me, and I keep thwarting him at every turn. Jamie says this is why she's my only friend. Apparently I'm too guarded.

But I can't stop thinking about Karen's sad face expression. And wondering if I am the reason Jared dumped her. And despite the fact that we are _not_ together, wondering if another girl comes along, if he will suddenly 'dump' me, too.

Or even worse, continue to stay friends with me while he goes off and seduces _her_ in his basement.

My heart hurts. And I really need to stop thinking about this. The sooner I start to seriously think of Jared as just a friend, the sooner I can start to really be _friends_ with him, and the sooner I can put all of this needless heartache aside. Because if we were really just friends none of this would be bothering me at all.

And since I'm the person who lied to him about not being able to date, I can at least give him that much. I owe it to him, really. So I make a conscious decision right in this moment to think of him as a friend, just a friend, and _only_ a friend.

After class ends, I send a quick text message to my mother to let her know that Jared is coming over. I'm surprised when she texts me back quickly to let me know that she's on her way home as well.

I swallow my apprehension that Jared is about to come face to face with my mother. We're just friends so this is not a big deal, I tell myself. This is exactly the same thing as Jamie interacting with my mother. I have nothing to worry about.

"Ready?" Jared asks me as I put my phone in my bag. It's somewhat inconvenient to not have pockets, but Jared complimented me on my dress this morning, so that kind of makes it worth it.

I wonder if he will think I'm weird if I change clothes when I get home…?

"Ready," I reply, embarrassed as I realize he's still waiting for an answer. I need to stop overthinking. _Treat him like Jamie!_ I tell myself. I have a feeling I'll be repeating that mantra to myself a lot.

We arrive at the house in record time and I don't know if I'm relieved or nervous that my mom isn't home yet. Not that it makes a difference, but… it kind of does. It makes a difference if you invite a boy to an empty house or to one where there is parental supervision.

He climbs out of his seat, and practically runs around to open the passenger door of the jeep for me.

"Thank you," I say, reddening.

He lets me lead him to my front door, but I kind of wish he had gone first because now I'm kind of paranoid that a breeze will blow by and lift my dress up. It's the sort of thing that would definitely happen to me in front of Jared.

I fish around for my keys at the front door wishing I had found them while we were in the car. Jared flashes me a smile when I look up at him, but the silence is somewhat awkward.

I finally get my front door open and immediately I feel some of my nervous tension dissipate from being in my comfort zone. I walk in, and swivel around to hold the door open for Jared. He follows me in, and then I close it.

I watch him take everything in, while pretending not to, and then he smiles at me again.

"This is very Kim-like," he finally says.

I blink. "Kim-like?" I repeat, making it a question.

He nods. "Warm and cozy. Comfortable. Kim-like."

I smile, blushing, and opt not to say anything. "I'll, um… I'll be right back," I say. I'm up the stairs and into my room before I can remember to invite him to sit. But it's not a big deal. I never invite Jamie to sit. And Jared is my new Jamie, I remind myself.

I close my door, lock it, and quickly strip out of my dress. I throw on a black t-shirt and black leggings. Comfortable clothes that say I'm not trying too hard. Plus, they're much easier to maneuver in without the scary thought of sudden wind gusts. Although… we're inside, so… that wouldn't really be an issue.

I shake my head at myself. I'm being ridiculous. I put a black wrap-around headband on to keep my hair out of my face.

I give myself a once over in the mirror before I head back downstairs. I look just fine, and I really want to hurry back down before my mom gets home.

When I get home, Jared is looking at all of my childhood pictures and school pictures and family photos in the living room. My mom has them everywhere, all over the house, as if one day we'll wake up to a world without mirrors and forget what we look like.

He turns around as if he can sense me behind him before I even say anything.

"Sorry about… all that," I say, embarrassedly. "My mom likes to take a gazillion pictures of me… she orders the entire set from picture day at school every year. And she has like three digital cameras. And two Polaroid's."

He shrugs. "I mean, I can see why. You were adorable as a child. You still are. And you photograph really well. You're cute, Kimberly."

I just stare at him, trying not to think, 'Jared just called me cute! Jared just called me cute!' I am a lost cause. I can feel my face getting hot. Again.

"Th-thank you," I stutter.

"So… uh, about this project…" he says suddenly, flopping down on my couch as if he owns the place.

Looking anywhere but at him, I say, "I thought we could… um, g-go to my room. My mom is going to be home soon and she usually has the TV on in here. It's the only one in the house."

His voice drops an entire octave as he says, "Oh, yeah, sure," in a voice that makes me shiver. My entire body heats up. I realize that what I said could totally be mistaken as me trying to get him alone to make out with him, and from his tone of voice, I'm pretty sure that's what he thinks, too.

I tell myself to be strong and if he tries anything, to set him straight.

Wordlessly, I turn and lead him to my room, conscious the entire time of him right behind me.

I turn around when we reach my room, mentally wincing at all the neon pink and green. It's so overly girly and kind of embarrassing, but Jared's not a 'boy'. Jared is my new Jamie.

I watch, somewhat helplessly, as 'my new Jamie' closes the door behind us.

He turns to me, his eyes dark and almost predatory.

My heartbeat suddenly speeds up. He reaches behind him and locks my door.

Right then, in this moment, I know what is about to happen. I know that I have the power to stop it, to stop this thing that's about to happen from happening. I know that I should stop it. I know that it's not right, and it's not respectful to me or my body, but I want it. I want it so bad. And I want it with Jared, although I shouldn't.

I shouldn't because he's dangerous and he doesn't want the same things I want and when this is all over and done with, I will regret every single moment of this ever happening.

But in this moment, I think that if I don't take this opportunity right now nothing like this will ever happen to me again. And it's hard to say no. It's so hard.

So I don't say anything.

He crosses the room quickly, one hand cupping my cheek, the other reaching down to settle on my waist. He leans in for a kiss, because he is _Jared Freaking Thail_, I let him. I let it happen.

I let him pull my waist in closer so that my body is flush against his. I let him kiss me over and over again with tiny soft touches on my lips. I let him tease me with his tongue, and then I open my mouth and grant him silent permission to enter.

When he moves both of his hands down to grip my butt, I let that happen, too.

Somehow, he maneuvers us so that we are right in front of my bed, and he guides both of us down without breaking the kiss. Now I am on my back, and he's on top of me, laying in between my legs.

My body is on fire, and not just because Jared's skin is so warm. I swear, even if he wasn't sharing body heat with me, I would still be as hot as I am right now.

He finally breaks our kiss, only to whisper, "Kimberly," so softly I can barely hear it.

At some point I closed my eyes, and right now I keep them closed because I'm afraid to see what his face looks like. He moves his kisses down to my neck and at the first touch of his tongue at the sensitive skin there I let out a little gasp and squirm underneath him. Combined with the fact that he's still on top of me, his body weight pressing into mine in all the right places, it feels amazing.

He continues to work his magic on my neck as some of his weight disappears from one side of my body to be replaced with his right hand. He puts it at my waistband, and slowly slides it up underneath my shirt. The heat on my stomach feels incredible. I'm unable to stop myself from letting out a tiny moan.

His hand keeps sliding up until he reaches my right breast. He cups it, and as if what I'm doing isn't embarrassing enough, my body arches up towards him without my permission.

Unwittingly, my eyes fly open right then and the sudden eye contact causes both of us to freeze. The look on his face makes me wish I had a photographic memory. His pupils are dilated, his eyes darker than normal. He's focused on me with an intensity that's entirely too much for me to handle.

I know I have another moment right now. Again, I can stop this, and I doubt he would continue if I make the slightest sound of protest.

Again, I don't say a word.

I just make myself close my eyes again, let out a tiny sigh, and he shifts again so that he is once more entirely on top of me, my legs open and he's settled in between them. He pushes my shirt up, so that both of my breasts are exposed. I'm still wearing my bra, but it hardly matters.

His lips descent to touch mine again, and he kisses me with those small almost pecks, before he plunges his tongue in to playfully stroke against mine. Both hands are squeezing and cupping and palming my breasts now and I can't pretend that it doesn't feel wonderful because it definitely does.

He grinds his jean-clad hips against my crotch area. I can clearly feel the outline of his erection through his jeans, and my reaction is one part fear, two parts arousal. I ignore the fear in favor of how good it feels. He thrusts into me again, and lets out a soft moan, a sound that surprises me somewhat. For some reason, I didn't imagine how this would feel for him. I mean, it's not like I'm doing anything to _him_. I'm basically just laying here and taking it.

He thrusts again, and again, faster and faster. And his jeans kind of make it uncomfortable, but the friction is still nice because my leggings are protecting me somewhat. He lifts his shirt up and over his head, and then reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. I tell myself I don't care, that they're just breasts, but I keep my eyes clothes anyways.

He leans back down again and at the sensation of his bare chest against mine, we both let out gasps of pleasure.

"Kim – " he starts to whisper, but we both hear a loud crash downstairs followed by the sound of my mom cursing and it's like a bucket of icy cold water being doused on us.

"Fuck," he says, and he's off of me in a flash. He tugs his shirt back on. Panicking, I grab my bra and put it back on as fast as I can. I find my t-shirt, but it's hopelessly inside out. I grab the closest one from the closest drawer and am relieved that it's something I would normally wear, so that it doesn't look suspicious.

I grab my brush and drag it through my hair, wincing as it catches on snarls. I hope I look presentable.

I yank the door open. "Mom!" I say loudly, breathlessly.

"You're home already, Kimmy?" she says. "Is Jared with you?"

"Yeah," I say. "We're coming down."

I risk a glance at Jared, aware that my face is bright red. He just stares back at me, wordless and unreadable.

I don't know what to say to him, so I don't say anything. I just go downstairs and hope that he follows me.

"Hey, Mom," I say, attempting to sound normal.

"Hey!" she says. "Be careful right there. I was carrying this stupid plant in – " She gestures towards a gigantic plant sitting on the kitchen counter, " – and knocked that lamp over – Hey Jared!"

I turn to see that Jared did follow me down. He smiles at my mom politely, but doesn't look at me at all.

"Do you need help cleaning up?" he offers, surprising both of us, I'm sure.

"Oh, no," my mom says, waving him away. "Thanks for the offer, but I'd feel better if you two just stayed away from the glass. Just go the other way around the couch. Unless you needed something from the kitchen? Juice? Soda?"

I shake my head. "I'm okay," I say.

"I'm actually about to head out," Jared says, surprising me again.

I look at him. He's still not looking at me.

"Really?" My mom says, just as surprised as I am. "Well, okay. You're welcome to come back any time!"

"Thank you," he says, flashing a grin at her. He glances at me, and then quickly looks away again. My face heats up. Did I do something wrong…?

"I'll text you," he says to me. I just nod, unable to speak, suddenly.

Then he heads out and I'm left with my mom throwing questioning glances at me.

But I just shake my head, knowing I'm being totally rude, and go back up to my room without a word. I don't know what it is, but all of a sudden I want to cry.

And I don't understand anything that's just happened.

* * *

_- FadingSlowly_

**A/N: Thank you for reading, reviewing, favorite(ing), and adding me to your author alert lists! I now have two jobs, so I'm super busy, but I have not abandoned this fic and I don't plan to. Thanks for sticking with me everyone!**


	7. NATURAL HUMAN REACTION

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, have no wish to own Twilight, and do not profit monetarily from writing this fanfiction.**

* * *

07 – NATURAL HUMAN REACTION – 07

True to his word, he texts me.

It's immediate. He can't even have driven off yet. I wish I had a window from my room that faces the front, so I can check to be sure. If I go downstairs, my mom will ask me what's going on, and I'm so not in the mood to talk, so I opt to not do that.

I know it's messed up, but I really can't talk about it right now, not when I don't understand. Not when it's so fresh and not when I swear I can still smell his scent in the air.

I go for my phone instead, half expecting an apology. That's not what I get at all.

'**Lol. That was close.'**

I stare at my phone, wordlessly. I don't even know how to respond to that.

My phone beeps again as I hold in my hand. Jared's next words blink into existence.

'**I wanted to stay.'**

I don't know what he expects me to say to that, either. Did I want him to stay? If he had stayed, and my mom hadn't come home right then, I can't honestly say what we would be doing right now. I really don't know. I really don't know much of anything.

The phone beeps again. He must be a fast texter.

'**Kimberly…?'**

'**Hey'** I text back, painfully aware that it gives him absolutely nothing to go on.

Quickly, I also type **'We didn't get any work done' **and send it before he can send something else, but I'm not quite fast enough.

He responds to my 'hey' with a **'Lol. I was beginning to think I had typed in your number wrong.'**

I choose not to respond to that and instead give him a second to respond to my last text. He does – in under a second.

'**No. No work at all… but we definitely made progress ;)'**

I exhale the breath I didn't realize I was holding and shake my head. My heart starts to pound once more. Again, I wonder if he's driven away yet, and I sincerely begin to hope that he's not texting while he's driving.

'**I wish I could come back.'**

I struggle to swallow past the lump in my throat. I'm not quite sure why he had to leave so suddenly, but I'm also not entirely certain that I want him to come back. At least, not for that. I wasn't at all prepared for that.

In fact, I'm pretty sure I told him I didn't want that and that I only wanted to be friends.

But I can't put the blame on him. I totally gave him mixed signals when I invited him to my room and didn't say no… when I saw him lock my door and didn't say no… when he hesitated before crossing the room to kiss me and I didn't say _anything_.

So it's as much my fault as it is his. But that doesn't mean I feel good about it. It definitely doesn't mean that I want it to happen again. Not in that way.

I hold my cell phone for another minute, but no more texts come in. He's probably waiting for me to respond, maybe to invite him back over or something. Not happening.

'**I'll see you tomorrow'** I type and send it.

He responds quickly **'See you.'**

I toss my phone onto my bed and head into the bathroom. I feel somewhat calmer, but now that the adrenaline has gone away, the shame starts to creep in. I owe my mom some kind of explanation.

Sighing, I head downstairs to find her with her feet propped up, watching a movie we both love.

She looks up at me with the same questioning eyes, but instead of saying anything she just opens up her right arm.

Wordlessly, I join her on the couch, and she allows me to snuggle up to her.

"Troubled, worried, anxious," she whispers, but the words are almost like questions.

I just nod, suddenly too tired to answer. She turns her head to me, leans over and kisses me on the forehead.

I think she's my very favorite person in the world, too –

* * *

- too early to get up, and that moment between waking and sleeping passes too soon.

I remember everything that happened yesterday and I wish it didn't.

I wish I could go back in time and ask Jared what he thought he was doing when he was locking my door, in a polite, joking sort of way, so he wouldn't think I was angry, but so he would know that I was serious.

Reluctantly, I get up and drag myself over to my closet. I have this theory that if I look better on the outside, my insides will strive to match. I pick out a silky long-sleeved button up top that's long enough to be used as a tunic dress and pair it with the same leggings I had on yesterday. It's a nice outfit, and the result looks nicer than sweats would have.

I take a very long shower, as I try to decide what words I will be using with Jared today. I want him to know that yesterday was nice, but it can't happen again because… because I'm not allowed to date? I sigh. Maybe I should come up with a better excuse.

Why does, 'I'm sorry, Jared. I respect my body and my mind too much to allow you to use me as a plaything. Yes, I like what you do to me – it's a natural human reaction, especially to you because I have had a massive schoolgirl crush on you for years, but I was raised to demand more and expect more. I am smart and confident and I deserve a loving relationship. If you wait for the cookie to dissolve in the milk, you'll find that it makes a wonderful combination,' sound so bad?

Okay, so I don't know where the cookie thing came from, but Jared dreams leave me sleep deprived. I get out of the shower, put the outfit on, and skip breakfast all together. I might actually be late to class for once.

Thankfully, Jared is not waiting for me outside in his jeep like I feared he would be. I'm not actually ready to have the conversation yet. I need to think of something to say and how to say it besides the weird milk and cookie thing.

I get on my bike and pedal quickly, which is weird to do, considering I don't really want to go where I'm going. I know I've ridden faster than this before, but I manage to get to class just ten minutes late, so I don't scold myself too much over it.

I park by bike without bothering to lock it up and hightail it into the building. Jared's mom gives me a raised eyebrow, but doesn't stop me to talk, thank goodness. I blush and continue down the hallway.

This is the part I hate. I take a deep breath and open the classroom door. Everyone stops what they're doing and stares at me.

"Do you have a note, Kimberly?" Mrs. Najera asks.

My face steadily reddening, I whisper, "No." I can feel Jared's eyes on me, above anyone else's. I don't dare to look at him.

"Can you see me at the lunch break?" Mrs. Najera says, not without kindness.

I nod and take my seat. I can feel moisture behind my eyes and I struggle to blink my tears away before I can embarrass myself any further.

Mrs. Najera gets up from behind her desk. "If you could all pass your quizzes to the end, that would be great. Amy, can you collect them? Thank you."

She continues around to the front of her desk, still speaking. She starts to hand out flashcards.

"Alright class, we're going to play a game. I have taken the liberty of writing out a math problem on each of these index cards, for each of you to solve. Everyone has a different problem. I have another stack of cards, with an answer on each card. Do not trade cards with anyone because I have put them in a specific order. I'm going to hand out the answers, but you will not get the answer to your own card… you will get someone else's answer. Is everyone following me so far? Great.

"So, when you are done solving the problem on your card, write the answer on the back of your own flashcard. Then, here comes the tricky part. When everyone is done, and they've all written down their answers, I want you each to hold your index card with the original problem in your left hand, and the answer card in your right. Then, I want you all to stand up and form a chain of problems and answers. When you're done – " She goes back to the board and draws out a diagram, " – your human chain should look something like this. Any questions?"

The other guy in the classroom raises his hand. I am still steadily not looking at Jared, so of course I jump a mile when he takes the opportunity to poke me on the thigh.

"Hey," he whispers with a wide grin, when I make the mistake of looking at him.

Before I get the chance to say anything or not say anything, Mrs. Najera interrupts.

"Jared Thail, I am _not_ in the mood today. You will pay attention and leave Kim Connweller alone, or I will personally escort you down the hallway to your mother and you can explain to her why I kicked you out of my classroom. Do you understand?"

Jared nods, wide-eyed. I stare down at my desk, mortified.

"Excellent. If you understand this enough to feel the need to not pay attention, can you please explain to Justin why we are holding the problem cards in the left hand and the answer cards in the right hand, and how the chain will be formed? Thank you."

Jared opens his mouth to begin explaining. One of the two girls in the room start to giggle, but she quickly quiets down when Mrs. Najera shoots her a _look_.

I shudder. I am so not looking forward to meeting her at lunch –

* * *

- lunch comes all too quickly, of course.

Jared turns to me, right when I am standing up to approach Mrs. Najera's desk. He glances at Mrs. Najera, and seems to think better of detaining me, before giving me a 'good luck' kind of look and leaving the room.

On jelly legs, I go up the front of the room.

"If you're going to be late, you need a note," she says, curtly. "I'll let it slide because it's the first time, but let's make it the only time."

I nod.

"You missed a pop quiz this morning. Do you want to take it now or after class? It'll only take five minutes at most."

I open my mouth to say after class, but then I imagine Jared waiting to pounce on me in the hallway, and I shiver.

"Now," I say, instead.

She takes the quiz out of a folder and hands it to me. "Five minutes," she repeats, glancing at her watch. I wonder why she's so angry today, but I'm sure not going to ask her.

It takes me six minutes, but it's fairly easy, so I'm confident that I managed to answer everything right. I turn it in, wishing that it was a longer quiz, just so I could avoid Jared. If I wanted, I could stay and eat in the classroom, but then he would know that I'm purposely avoiding him.

I need to just not be a chicken and tell him about the cookies and milk, already.

Steeling myself, I open the classroom door. He's right outside, as I had known he would be.

"Hey," he says, with a smile. "How did it go?"

"The quiz?" I ask, wondering how he knows. I shake my head. Common sense, obviously.

"Yeah, I thought it was pretty easy and I haven't even been paying attention," he says, shrugging. Then, he grins, a slow, easy smile that turns my insides to mush and gives me flashbacks of yesterday. One smile should not have all that power.

"I have better things to pay attention to these days," he says, his voice lowering.

My entire body burns from the inside out. This is it. I should talk to him right now and explain.

I take a deep breath, but he starts to talk again.

"Sorry you had to feel her wrath," he says softly, referring to Mrs. Najera. "Paul's dad left again last night so according to Paul she's pretty angry about it."

Oh right. He and Paul are friends.

"Where did his dad go?" I ask, though I'm pretty sure I know the answer. Mr. Najera is rumored to be a notorious cheater and everyone knows it. I bet it's embarrassing for Mrs. Najera. She keeps trying with him and he keeps being a disappointment.

I bet it's embarrassing for Paul, too.

"He was caught in the act," Jared says simply before he changes the subject.

"Did you bring anything for lunch today?" he says, quickly. "I forgot. I have enough for the vending machines, though. For both of us this time." He lets out a short laugh. "You want to walk with me?"

I just nod. It'll probably be better, away from right in front of the classroom where anyone could just come around the corner and hear us. Or Mrs. Najera herself could decide to stretch her legs and hear us.

We start to walk and I'm silent while I try to figure out the best way to bring this up. I don't want to just blurt it out, but Jared is talking nonstop and I don't see any other way than to just interrupt him.

"Hey, I'm sorry I didn't pick you up this morning. My mom and I kind of got into an argument last night. Woke up late this morning and I found my jeep gone with a note where I usually leave my keys." He snorts. "Apparently, she tried to wake me up and couldn't, so she just left without me."

I blink. That sounds kind of harsh.

"I was with Paul, if you're wondering. I got home pretty late."

"H-How did you get here this morning?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Ran," he says, casually.

I stare at him wide-eyed, surprised. "From your _house_?" I ask, shocked. Jared lives clear across the reservation. For him to walk, or run, to school is pretty much insane to ask of anyone. It would easily take me half an hour, going at top speed on my bike. Probably more than half an hour.

"I'm in very, very good shape," he says, his voice lowering again.

I blush, and promptly forget what I was going to say next.

We reach the vending machines, but instead of going up to them, Jared grabs my hand, tries the door handle of an empty classroom and pulls me into it with him.

Quick as lightning, he closes the door, locks it, and guides me further into the dark of the classroom.

Now would be the perfect time to tell him! I urge myself. I swallow, the sound loud to me in the quiet, and open my mouth to say something when his lips crash down on mine.

My words are muffled underneath him and my body melts in his arms. Somehow, he manages to maneuver me backwards and further into the room until we reach the teacher's desk on the opposite side. There's no way anyone could see us from the window, but I doubt that's even on Jared's mind.

Roughly, though I'm not sure he's aware of his strength right now, he picks me up so that I'm sitting on the edge of the desk. He continues kissing me, moving down to suck the pulse point in my neck, even as he fumbles to unbutton my shirt. I release a tiny moan I didn't know I was holding on to.

He pries my shirt off and down my shoulders so that now I'm sitting here in a yellow bra and black leggings. His shirt is off within seconds and his hands are behind my back now, pulling me, tugging me towards the edge of the desk. My legs are open and he's in between them, his heat right up against the parts of me that are naked.

We're both breathing heavily now. He pushes me gently down on the desk and climbs on top of me, pressing his jean-clad erection into my most intimate area. I gasp at the sensation, only encouraging him to press down more.

He holds himself up on one elbow, as his other hand reaches around to my back and unclips my bra. I don't help him take it off, but I don't stop him from taking it off, either.

I want this, and I don't. I'm conflicted. I want him, but I don't. I want it so bad, but I'll regret it soon enough.

Oh, but I gasp. I gasp and moan and writhe around and arch when he swirls the tip of his tongue around my right nipple. He opens his mouth and sucks on my breast, causing me to buck under him.

He catches my eye while my breast is in his mouth. His gaze holds mine and it hits me all over again that this is _Jared Freaking Thail _and that I am doing these things and experiencing all these firsts with Jared Thail.

Still watching me, he takes his pointer finger and traces my gasping lips with it. I buck again as his tongue takes another swipe at my nipple. Then, ever so slowly, he dips his pointer finger into my mouth and whispers, "Suck it."

My eyes widen, and without quite realizing why, I listen to him. I suck on his finger. He starts to dip his finger in and out of my mouth. As he quickens his pace, his breathing quickens as well and I suddenly realize that his finger is a substitute for another part of his anatomy. And that it's turning him on immensely to watch me suck on it because that's what it reminds him of.

It's a shock to my system to feel the sudden dampness in my panties. He rubs his penis against me, rougher than before as I continue to suck on his finger.

Then, without warning, he backs off of me, unbuckles his pants and drops them to the floor so that he's wearing only boxers. The tent there is prominent, but I have no time to be shy. He picks me up and my legs automatically straddle his waist, then he sits in the teacher's chair, with me on his lap facing him. I am sitting on his penis, with nothing separating us but my leggings, a pair of panties and his boxers. I can practically feel everything.

He grabs my butt and starts to move me up and down so that our privates are rubbing up against one another. I moan again, but he thrusts his tongue into my mouth, effectively cutting off the sound. Just when I can't breathe, he releases my mouth and goes to town on my breasts again instead.

It's too much sensation. My body is on fire. Just when I think I can't take anymore, he lets out a grunt and presses me hard into him. I can feel his anatomy pulsating and I realize that he's ejaculating.

He seems to realize that he's holding me quite tightly and he loosens his grip.

My legs are numb. I don't move and neither does he.

"Kimberly," he says softly.

I don't answer. I just close my eyes.

He presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. "You're amazing," he says, quietly.

I don't say anything. Wordlessly, I get up, my legs still jelly. I pray that they will hold me up so that I can find my clothes and get out of this room, before the regret sets in.

"Kimberly," he says again.

Too late.

I can't even ask myself what just happened here. Once again, I let it happen. I let Jared happen. I was more than a willing participant.

Silently, I gather my clothes. I don't look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me.

"You're beautiful," he says. "And I'm not just saying that because of… this. You really are."

All the right things. He's saying all the right things, but doing all the wrong ones. Or maybe I'm wrong? But – it feels wrong. Kind of. Or maybe it feels right, but in the wrong order.

I don't know.

This was a mistake, too.

I suddenly start shaking, making it somewhat difficult to button the buttons my shirt. My eyes are dry, thank goodness. So I'm not going to cry, but the shaking is uncontrollable.

"Kimberly," he says again, and he's suddenly in front of me. "Are you… are you okay?"

I don't look at him. Right now. Right now I should say it. I should tell him that this can't happen again. That I deserve… I deserve… what do I deserve? Respect? What does that even mean? This is high school.

Jamie would tell me to be more realistic.

Maybe I'm getting too worked up over this, too emotional. Maybe there's nothing wrong. Maybe this is how relationships are supposed to start. After all, I'm no expert. I've never dated. Maybe janitor's closets and empty classrooms are what all the teenagers are doing these days and my fantasies of actual dates and flowers and candy hearts are old-fashioned.

I mean, even in movies I've watched, the guy and the girl meet on the dance floor and they're making out in the back of the club five minutes later. Only, there is some conflict because one of them is involved with like a mobster, or something crazy. But here, there's no mobster. Nothing crazy is going on, so what's wrong with me? Shouldn't I just enjoy this while it lasts?

But –

"D-D-Do you have a girl-girlfriend?" I blurt out, stammering the entire sentence.

He looks at me incredulously. "No…?" he answers as if it's a question, a really stupid question.

"Oh," I say, feeling ridiculous. I feel the familiar burning sensation behind my eyes and I don't want him to see me cry. I turn towards the classroom door.

"Kim…" he says my name again, but it's like he's asking for an explanation.

"I-I met Karen," I whisper, feeling even more stupid, and wishing I could just shut up. It's like some part of me is determined to destroy this thing between us. I swear. I am the master of self-sabotage. But I have to know. I have to get all of this out in the open because something feels wrong, and it shouldn't. I should be happy about all of this. And if it's Karen that's making me feel this way, I need it to be said.

"Oh," he says. "It was before you. I just went on one date with her. It was nothing serious. Then… I saw you and I just… I wanted you. I want you, Kim. Not Karen, not anyone. I just want you."

And if you 'just want' someone else tomorrow? I want to say, but I don't have the nerve.

"Oh," I say, instead.

"Is that why you're upset?" he asks. "Because it's _only_ you, I swear. Did she say something to you?"

"N-No, just that you d-dumped her," I say, softly.

"Yeah. Yeah I did. I know she felt bad and I apologized, but I just didn't feel anything for her. I apologized for what it's worth, but… I guess it'll take time…" he trails off, uncomfortably. "I know she probably hates my guts."

I shrug.

That small action has him crossing the room. He envelopes me in a hug, but I don't feel any better. He could still dump me tomorrow, get bored, say that what he feels for me is nothing serious… etcetera.

I don't even know what we're doing, besides making out.

"I swear to you, Kim. You're the only one for me. I only think about you. There is no one else. I only want you. I swear. If there's anything I can do to convince you, please let me know. I would… I would tell the world we're together if your mom would let you date. I don't want to keep you a secret or anything, but you said you're not allowed, so… I thought better this than nothing, right?" He says all of this a bit desperately.

But all I hear is "We're together?" I echo the words.

"We're together," he confirms, then he pulls back and looks at me hesitantly. "Unless… you don't want to be?"

If we're together, there's less chance of him leaving me tomorrow, so maybe… maybe he is more serious about this than he was about Karen.

Maybe I'm too busy looking for the pot of gold that I'm missing the rainbow right in front of me. Maybe I'm asking for way too much when this could be all I've ever wanted.

"Okay," I say, softly. He grins at me and pulls me into another hug.

So we're together.

Why don't I feel any better?

* * *

_- FadingSlowly_


	8. INITIATE SEXUAL CONTACT

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, have no wish to own Twilight, and do not profit monetarily from writing this fanfiction.**

* * *

08 – INITIATE SEXUAL CONTACT - 08

"S-So we need to come up with a... a basic design for the house..." I trail off and feel my face get hot as Jared's grin widens.

What? I want to say, but I don't need to. He responds to my face expression.

"You're cute when you talk about basic designs," he says.

I shake my head, completely flustered. "I-I um..."

His smile disappears to be replaced by an incredibly intense look… directed at me.

"You're cute when you don't know what to say," he says, less jokingly and more seriously.

I stare at him, completely helpless and at a total loss for words. We are supposed to be working on our project that is due in three days and we've barely even started. It's already Friday. And every time we get together, he acts like we're spending time together just because we can. Then he either has to run off to work for Sam Uley or for Harry Clearwater.

Or... this happens.

"My parents aren't going to be home for a while," he says suggestively. "The monsters are in daycare until six..."

I bite my lip.

He exhales. "You're cute when you do that, too," he says, softly.

He sits up on his knees from where he is positioned on his bedroom floor. I politely declined the invitation to sit on his bed after what happened two days ago. He leans over so that he is on all floors, and crawls towards me, pushing our notebooks and materials aside as he approaches.

He doesn't stop when he reaches me. He just gently maneuvers me so that I'm on my back and he is on top of me. He leans down and captures my lips in a soft kiss, and unable to help myself, I let out a soft sigh.

He reaches down in between us and parts my legs, and then he settles in between them like he belongs there. The warmth of him envelopes me and before I know it his left hand is under my shirt caressing my bare skin.

His nose is buried in my neck and he is licking and kissing and sucking on my pulse point -

I make an involuntary noise and he immediately stills.

"What? What's wrong?" He asks, backing off of me quickly. My hand betrays me and seeks out my neck without my permission.

"I...I ah..." Embarrassment colors my face again while panic covers his.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.

"No," I whisper. "I just… I can't…" Slowly, I get up and look around his room; my eyes don't stop until I find what I'm looking for.

I head straight for it and only when I am standing in front of his mirror do I uncover my neck. I knew it. I try to school my face expression into cool nonchalance, but he's followed me over to the mirror and he sees the dismay there.

And the giant red, but slowly turning purple, hickey, too.

"Oh, shit," he breathes. "Kimberly, I am so… I…"

In the mirror behind me he looks so incredibly dejected. It's all I can do not to turn around and tell him it's fine. But it's not, so I don't.

"Fuck. And you're not even allowed to _have_ a boyfriend!" he groans.

My heart jumps. Right. He still thinks that. I take a deep breath to attempt to explain that that's not really something we need to worry about, but he keeps talking.

"Shit, I… I, um… what if we… can we go to your mom? I'll explain. I… I can… Tell her I… I don't – "

"Jare – " I try softly, but he doesn't let me get a word in.

"We could say it's a bug bite! Some people are really allergic to bug bites and they have no idea. But no… because then she might want to take you to a doctor or something, right? Um… can we say you weren't paying attention and ran into a tree on your bike… neck first? Or…"

"Jared – "

"JARED!" A new voice interrupts me and we hear the sound of a thump upstairs.

"Shut up, he said he would play with me, first!"

"No, me!"

Kids. From the sounds of it, a million of them.

I stare at Jared, wide-eyed, and he just looks at me, helplessly. Very similar to how I was looking at him, earlier.

The monsters," he says, simply, by way of explanation.

His siblings.

"Shit. Your neck…! My mom is probably - "

"Jared, are you home?" His mom's voice cuts over 'the monsters' voices and interrupts him mid-sentence.

At that, my own heart starts pounding. I really don't want to see his mother like this. I don't want her to see me like this.

"Shit," he swears again. Then, he says louder. "Yeah, I'm home! I'll be up in a second!"

"Jareeeeeed!" At his voice, the kids start shouting over each other again.

"Kim… grab that towel and hold it to your neck… Wait for me by the backdoor. I swear I'll be right back," he says, then he disappears up the ladder so quick, it's like he's a monkey.

I gather up all of my school stuff first then grab the towel like he instructed me to do, my heart still thumping. I feel like I'm doing something wrong by being here. The way he's acting isn't helping at all.

"Coast is clear," he says as he reappears at the backdoor, only confirming my feeling of trespassing.

I don't speak as he leads me to the car.

"Keep your hand on your neck," he advises. "I'm sure the monsters are watching."

I sneak a glance towards the front windows only to see three sets of eyes staring at me from the living room. I blush and look away, back towards the ground.

"Cera Jane is the oldest," he says. "Then there's Lex... well, Alex, and Lee, short for Leroy."

Cera Jane doesn't get a nickname? I want to ask, but I feel bad, so I can't really bring myself to speak right now.

Jared gives me a sidelong glance after he pulls out of his driveway. "Sorry again," he says, quietly. His face darkens in a blush. "Maybe you can… cover it with makeup?"

I nod.

"I used to… do that to this other girl I…" he trails off. "And you probably don't want to hear about that."

Now I feel even worse.

He stops in front of my house. "Kim…" he says, obviously humiliated. "I'm really sorry."

I nod again. "It's… fine," I practically whisper.

"No… I… um…. Look. I know this is going to sound… I don't know… weird and maybe stalker-ish, but I've thought about… um… if you leave your window open tonight, I can come in."

My heart jumps. He wants to sneak into my room!?

My face must betray my thoughts because he immediately backs off.

"Or not," he mutters. "Just an idea."

"I... I..." I can't even get the words out.

"Don't worry about it," he says, attempting a smile. "Another time, right?"

Before I can answer he gets out of the jeep, comes around to my side and opens my door.

I slide out, slowly.

My stomach feels tight. I want to say something, but I don't know what exactly. I do know that I don't want him to have that look of disappointment on his face. And I do know that eventually I want to be able to meet his family, and not be rushed out of the house like some dirty little secret. And maybe in order to get to that stage, I just have to get past this one first.

He closes my door and turns to me.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks.

I shake my head, feeling my face color once again. And telling myself not to think about it, I pitch forward wrapping my arms around his middle for a hug. And _oh_, he's so _warm_, and _oh_, he's _hugging me back_, and heart pounding, I strum up the nerve to say, "_Tonight_. I'll leave the window open."

And because I am Kim Connweller and he is Jared Freaking Thail, that's exactly what I do -

* * *

- do anything, really. I was planning on using all of this free time to make a dent in our project, but I am too nervous about the fact that _Jared_ is going to _sneak_ into my _room_ tonight. So I do absolutely nothing. Except of course change my pajamas six times before I remember that I have my choice of three different robes to wear over whatever I want to wear.

Besides, I remind myself, I'm going to be firm so it doesn't really matter what I wear or don't wear. I'm not going to makeout with him, no matter how much he wants to. Unless I feel like it.

Right. I click the mouse on my laptop halfheartedly attempting to make my newest 'Kim' and 'Jared' Sims 'Woohoo' with each other. 'Kim'-sim refuses due to their relationship meter not being high enough.

"Good for you, Kim!" I whisper. Then, in spite of myself, I laugh at the irony.

I watch as their relationship meter slides back a bit, then shake my head and save the game. I'm being ridiculous. All I need to do is tell Jared how I feel. Why is that so much easier thought than done?

I gaze across the room at my alarm clock. 11:30. He never told me what time he was coming over, but luckily, my mom usually goes to bed early. Even on a Friday night. I tried to watch a movie with her, but she yawned and I was so distracted that she laughed, called both of us sad for even trying and then said she was going to bed early. I checked on her an hour later and she was fast asleep. My mom's never been the type to wake up in the middle of the night. She's a deep sleeper, thank goodness, so I'm not too nervous about her waking up and catching Jared as much as I am about the idea that he's coming over in the first place.

It's more the idea that he's going to be in my room… at night.

I'm not totally naïve. I know that sexual things happen in the daylight, as well, behind closed doors. Lately, I have been a participant in those daytime sexual activities… but nighttime, I don't know, I feel like the stakes are higher, or something. It makes it more serious… more sexual… more…something.

My window slides up and I practically jump out of my skin at the abruptness. I gasp loudly and have to clasp my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound.

Jared's leg comes through first, his other leg follows, and then he does this weird cat-like movement through my window. It's so natural, it's like he's done this before.

He probably has, I remind myself. I'm not his first girlfriend.

He focuses on me, sitting cross-legged on my bed and stiff as a board, and he smiles.

"Hey," he says, softly.

My heart speeds up. I blush.

"H-Hey," I stammer.

He crosses the room immediately to join me on my bed. Jared is _on_ my _bed_. I fight the urge to hyperventilate. I really need to get over this. He's not a celebrity! He's my boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. And he's on my bed. And it's _okay_. Nothing's even happening.

Yet.

I take a mental deep breath.

"Missed me?" he asks. His voice sounds like he's joking, but his face is hopeful.

I don't know how to answer. My face reddens.

He grins. "Just joking. I know you did."

How do you know? I want to ask, and apparently I say it out loud, because he answers.

"Because I've been thinking about this since I left you," he says. Then, he cups my chin, leans over and gently presses his lips to mine.

The kiss quickly grows more heated than I'd like it to. When he unties my robe with one hand and reaches in with the other, I place my hands on his wrists. He stops.

"I missed you, too," he says, quietly, against my neck. "I don't want you to think it's one-sided because it's definitely not."

I feel my heart lurch. It's when he says things like this that makes me think there's something wrong with me. But, still…

"I… thought we could, um… maybe – " I don't know how to get the words out, and he interrupts before I can finish.

"Move your laptop?" he asks, as if he's finishing my sentence. "I thought so, too."

He backs off just to do that, and I'm left blinking at him.

He leans toward me again when my laptop is safely on the floor, but I put my hand on his chest. His incredibly warm, shirtless – when did he lose his shirt? – muscular, well-defined chest…

No, Kim! Think!

But his lips are on mine again, and hot hot hands are in my robe and I _can't_ think. Don't want to think.

My robe is off now, and all I can think about is the fact that he's shirtless and I'm wearing a camisole top and 'boyshorts' underwear.

"I like what you wear to sleep," he says, in that same low voice he used the other day when he told me to suck his finger. Embarrassingly, I can feel myself becoming turned on at the tone in his voice.

His fingers are on my bare nipples with my top pushed up, but he leans his body to the side so that his weight isn't on me and slides his palm down the middle of my body until he reaches my boyshorts. He glances at my face. I can't imagine what he sees there, but apparently, I grant him some silent permission because his hand slides right over my private part – above my shorts – and palms me there.

I gasp out loud at the sensation. His hand is _so_ unbelievably warm. It feels amazing.

"You like that?" he asks, his eyes intense and on mine. I stare at him, topless and vulnerable. He can't expect me to actually answer.

My hips lift to press into his hand of their own accord, but he begins to pull his hand away and I let out a tiny sound of protest.

"I asked," he emphasizes by putting more heat, more pressure there and causing me to gasp each time he presses down, "if you like that."

I close my eyes, unable to maintain eye contact right now. On one hand, I am humiliated by how talking to me while he's doing this to me and making me feel these things actually turns me on. On the other hand, I feel almost empowered at the fact that he's incredibly turned on _because_ I am so turned on, and he knows.

I give a quick nod, hoping that it's satisfactory enough. It must be because before I know it, he's on top of me again, his full weight, skin-to-skin, his lips on mine, tongue in my mouth, and his boxer shorts in contact with my boyshorts, so that we can both feel everything, and he's grinding. Hard.

He flips us over quickly, and I freeze. I've never been on top like this, and I don't know what to do. But he takes control, pulling my body down to meet his. His hands squeeze my butt and he rolls his hips up to meet mine and as exciting as this is, I'm terrified because I know we are going way too fast.

He picks up speed. We are grinding and rubbing and he's squeezing and licking and sucking and all too soon, and not soon enough, I am trying my best to stop myself from crying out as I climax and his body is shuddering underneath mine as he digs his hands into my butt, and he's saying, "_Kimberly_, _Kimberly_, _Kimberly_," over and over again –

* * *

- again, she puts her forehand to my hand.

"Are you sure, Bunny? Because you look really flushed. I don't have to go, you know. I could stay here."

I shake my head. "I'm _okay_, Mom. I just didn't get much sleep last night and I'm trying to do this stupid project…"

"Do you need any help?" she asks.

"No," I say, exasperated. "Just go. Go! You never get out of town for fun and it's _one_ night and I'll be fine."

"Okay…" she says. I glare. "Okay, okay! I'm going."

"Thank you," I say.

"I'm going, but remember Kim, if microwaves go extinct..."

"… I'll know how to bake cookies," I finish, rolling my eyes.

She laughs. "Good girl." She kisses my forehead, grabs her bag at the front door and leaves.

I watch her go. It is the next night, Saturday night, and one of the waitresses from the diner invited her for a Girls' Night Out in Port Angeles. This means that I get the house to myself for a night, because knowing my mom she won't drive, even if she's only had one drink. She'll stay with someone or check into a hotel.

If I were normal, I would be on the phone with Jared right now telling him to come over because I am a hormonal teenager with the house to myself.

But since I am not normal, I have my cell phone turned off knowing that he doesn't know the house number, and I have decided to dedicate this day and night to this stupid project that the aforementioned Jared pretty much abandoned me to do alone.

Plus, if I'm being totally honest, no matter how I much I like making out with Jared, I don't want to if that's all we're ever going to do.

I sigh, try to put it out of my mind, and get to work.

I'm about two and a half hours into it with the TV turned on low for noise when a knock sounds at the door, startling me and causing me to mess up on one of the blueprint lines.

I didn't invite anyone over, so I assume my mom did and forgot about it as I head to the door. I don't ask who is it, so I'm completely surprised to see Jared on the front porch when I open it.

"Hey," he says, grinning.

For a second, my heart stops.

"What are you - ?" I start to ask, but he interrupts me.

"Your mom's not here?" he asks. "I saw her car was missing. I tried to call, but your phone was off, so I just stopped by. I hope that's okay."

I shrug. "I was just – "

"I wanted to know if you wanted to see a movie tonight. Or… stay in and watch one? I brought a few, but I'm not sure what you like, so…"

"A-Actually – "

"And please… please don't say you're into vampire flicks…" he pleads. "I don't think I could handle that."

I shake my head.

He smiles. "Cool. Mind if I come in?"

This is it. I have to tell him now. _Right_ now.

"I…" I falter.

His face falls. "Oh… do you… already have company?" he asks.

"No, but… I was working on… something," I say, surprised to discover that I'm embarrassed to say what I'm working on. And why should I be embarrassed? He's the one who bailed on the project, not me.

"Really? Maybe I could help," he says, eagerly.

I redden. "Yeah, it's our… school thing. Our pr-project."

"Oh… _Oh_!" His eyes grow big. "Oh my God. Oh my God, I am so sorry. I totally forgot. Oh shit. That's due like… Monday, isn't it? Fuck. _Fuck_. I am so sorry!"

"It's okay," I say softly, moving back to let him in. I don't know why I said that. It's not okay, but I don't know what else to say.

"We can work on it, now," he says, resolutely. "In fact, you don't even have to do anything, Kim. I can do it. I can finish it. Just tell me what to do."

"Um… no, that's… you don't have to – " I say, nervously.

"No, I want to. I insist. It's my project, too. I'm sorry you had to do most of it by yourself. I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I forgot… Look, I have to work tomorrow, but I'll take the day off and do this instead. Just… let me take it home."

I hesitate. He notices.

"Trust me," he says, quietly. "I'll finish it."

"You have to work…" I say, doubtfully.

"I'll take the day off. It's not – I'm working for Sam tomorrow, not Harry, so… it'll be cool. Really. Don't worry about it."

I'm skeptical, but to be honest, I don't really want to do it all by myself, and he's right – it's his project, too.

I shrug. "Okay…" I explain what he has to do.

"So… where's your mom?" he asks five minutes later.

This is the part I had been dreading.

"Um… not here," I say, hedging.

He grins. "I know. Is she… coming back any time soon?"

I shrug again and choose not to make eye contact, knowing I'll give it away if I do. My body heats up. Jared has those eyes - the kind that just make you want to give everything away…

"Kim-ber-ly…" he plays my name on his lips like it's an instrument. I remember how he played my body last night. He made it sing.

My mouth opens and betrays me. "She's… out… all night," I whisper, blushing deeply.

His eyes light up like he's won the lottery. I'm pretty sure my face is permanently stained red by now.

"Really?" he says, his voice going deeper.

In an instant, he's directly in front of me. The sudden movement almost makes me lose my balance, but he steadies me like he knew it would throw me off.

Part of me is disappointed when his lips touch mine, and part of me feels stupid for feeling disappointed. What happened to those movies? I want to ask, but I don't know what he'll think of that, and that's the problem. After all, who _wouldn't_ want to take advantage of this opportunity? He'll think there's something wrong with me.

He takes me in his arms and starts to walk me backwards towards the couch. There must be some kind of resistance or reluctance in my body because he stops after two steps and opens his mouth.

"What's – ?" he starts to ask, but right then, his cell phone vibrates.

He reaches in his pocket and takes it out. I'm close enough to see that 'Sam' is calling.

He sighs. "Sorry, hold on a second," he says to me. Then he flips it open.

"What's up?... Tonight…? No, that was supposed to be Paul. I'm tomorrow… but, uh, I was gonna ask you about tomorrow... I have this school thing… But, Sam, I'm – What about you? … Okay! Okay, sorry, I was just asking, jeez… Yes. Fine. Okay. No, I'm gonna do it. I'm just with… yeah. Yeah," he sighs. "Okay. I will. Bye."

He hangs up and sighs again. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," I say, quickly, even though I don't know what's going on.

"It's not," he shakes his head. "I have to go… work tonight, since I need tomorrow off."

"Really? For how long? It's like… six, already," I say, surprised.

"Exactly. It's a night job," he says, rolling his eyes.

I feel stupid, though I know the eye-rolling probably wasn't directed at me.

"Oh," I say, embarrassed. And why am I complaining anyway? Wasn't I just annoyed at myself for allowing him to stay, knowing he was going to initiate sexual contact with me again?

I should be happy he has to leave.

But I'm not. Am I?

I don't know what I'm feeling.

"So… tomorrow, I'll um, stop by with this. Tomorrow night, probably, when I'm done, if that's cool. Will your mom be back by then?"

I nod. "Yes. She'll probably be back by noon, knowing her."

"Damn," he says. "Well, I'll come through the front to bring the project, then leave and come back later through your window."

"Sure," I say, faintly, though he wasn't really asking.

"Sorry that I have to go," he says, enveloping me in a hug.

He kisses me on top of my head and I melt into him. This is nicer, knowing it won't escalate into something more right now. I smile and he grins.

He gathers up my notes and the project and heads for the door.

"I'll text you before I come over tomorrow," he says.

"Okay," I respond.

"Oh, and Sam wants to meet you. Emily, too."

I blink. "O-Okay?"

"Don't worry. They're awesome. You'll like them. I promise. Probably like next weekend, or something, though."

I just nod.

He leaves after another wave. I shut the door, exhale, and settle down onto the couch alone, my anxiety melting away. Maybe I can just save that talk for another day. Or… think of a way to avoid making out for a while. Something.

My eyes fall upon Jared's forgotten movie pile. I grin. Perfect.

* * *

_- FadingSlowly_

Author's Note: Lol, so I know a few of you are getting frustrated with Kim not letting him know how she feels. And I know that it probably makes Jared look kinda like a jerk. But she will and he's not, and this story is called Brave for a reason. She's not there yet! Lol again. Buuuuuut I love you all for your words and your favoriting of my stories and I hope this made you happy and that the next chapter relieves some of that frustration. Happy Holidays!

OH, and YES, if you recognized the name, Cera Jane, she is a character from another story and I plotted her here so that maybe I can use her later in this series! Bye again!


	9. UNFORTUNATELY FAMILIAR BURNING

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, have no wish to own Twilight, and do not profit monetarily from writing this fanfiction.**

* * *

09 – UNFORTUNATELY FAMILIAR BURNING – 09

Sunday is pretty uneventful. My mom is home before noon, just like I said she would be. I know because she wakes me up from where I've fallen asleep in front of the TV after watching one of Jared's DVDs.

Still tired, I sleepily clean up, turn off the TV and then head back to bed to get rest for a couple more hours. When I finally rejoin the world, it's about 1pm.

I take a shower and then join my mom downstairs, settling back on the couch with her.

"Hey sleepyhead," she says, tousling my hair with one hand while she changes the channel on the TV with the other.

"Mom," I whine, attempting to smooth my hair back down. She smiles.

"How was your weekend? I see from this pile of movies that you didn't spend it alone," she says, suggestively.

I shake my head and blush. "It's not what you think. He came over, but had to go to work suddenly."

"Mmhmm," she continues to smile knowingly.

"Mom, seriously," I say, exasperated.

"Okay, okay. Is he coming back over today?" she asks.

I shrug. "I don't know."

He's supposed to, I think. To bring back my – I mean, our – project.

She seems to pick up on the fact that I'm not overjoyed to talk about Jared at the moment. There is a moment of silence before she continues.

"I had an interesting night," she says, a note in her voice that makes me look up.

I raise my eyebrows. "Did you?"

"I did. I thought it was supposed to be a girls' night out, but the waitress I told you about – Michelle – ended up bringing her boyfriend, well… fiancée… and one of his friends."

"Wait, it was a double date?" I ask, catching on quickly. "She ambushed you?"

It is a well-known fact in my mom's circle of friends that she does not date. She swears she has no time for 'silly things like love' but she's the world's biggest romantic. She's also a workaholic, though, and those two things don't exactly go hand-in-hand.

"She did! And worse than that, they left me with the guy… alone!"

She looks so indignant that I can't help but laugh.

"It's not funny, Kim," she says, but I note the twinkle in her eye and it's not hard to see that she's not all that upset about it.

"What was his name? What does he look like?" I ask.

"His name is Jeremy. He has blue eyes, a killer smile, and washboard abs."

"Ew," I say. Sometimes I swear my mom forgets that we are not just friends, but that I am her daughter, too. She swats at me.

"Are you going to date him?" I ask.

She shrugs, much like I had done earlier. "I don't know. I don't really have time for all that. He seems nice, but…" She shrugs again.

Silently, I finish the sentence for her. 'He seems nice, but he's not your father.' My heart breaks a little for my mom, though to be honest, I never quite knew what she saw in my dad. He wasn't the best looking guy, he wasn't particularly nice to her, and he left us without looking back. I hardly ever talked to him – I don't think he's called me in about two months and that's not an exaggeration. And yet, in spite of all of that, he is and probably always will be the love of my mom's life. I guess people really can't help who they love.

Since I rarely get Sundays off, I spend a few hours with my mom watching two more of Jared's movies and trying not to think about Jared, or how confused I am by what he makes me feel.

When my mom leaves me to take a nap, I head up to my room and open my journal to jot down some thoughts. This turns into a serious writing session and before I know it, it's already 5pm. I head down to the kitchen, heat up some ramen noodles, then back up to my room to play the Sims.

I feel uneasy and restless, like I should be doing something. I have half a mind to do the project anyway, but if I show up with a finished project alongside Jared's finished project that won't only make us look bad in front of the class, but it'll also potentially hurt Jared's feelings. I sigh. I don't know why I'm feeling less than trusting towards him.

Maybe because he hasn't devoted more than five minutes to the project since we received instructions for the assignment, I answer myself. But just because he hasn't done anything yet doesn't mean he won't. He said to trust him, so that's what I should be doing, right? Jared wouldn't just _not_ do the project, especially when it's my grade on the line, too. For all I know, he could be doing it right now. Or, it could be done already.

I hate that I'm trying so hard to convince myself. Still, as the time slips away, I can't help these thoughts from invading. I have one eye on the clock and the other on the – open – window, shivering –

* * *

- shivering wakes me up.

Slowly, I blink as my bleary eyes focus on the alarm clock. I gasp as I catch sight of the time. It's 10:45. I'm 45 minutes late for class!

I jump up and quickly get dressed. I must have forgotten to set my alarm clock, figuring Jared would wake me up when he got here. But… I look around my room… apparently Jared never showed.

I slam my window shut, an anxious feeling twisting my stomach in knots.

I race downstairs and out the door, praying feverishly that Jared is at school and he has the project and that I'm not going to show up looking like an idiot.

I jump on my bike, pedaling furiously, and make it to school no later than 11:05. I race past Jared's mom in the front hall. She merely smiles and pointedly looks at the clock. I blush and continue to the classroom, my heart hammering.

More dramatically than I planned, I swing the door to the classroom open, causing everyone to stop what they are doing.

All it takes is one sweep of the room to see that Jared isn't here. My heart sinks and all the blood rushes to my face again.

"Hello, Kimberly. Please take a seat, so that we can continue with the presentations," Mrs. Najera says.

I think she says something about me going next, but my heart is pounding so loudly that I don't really hear her. Where is Jared? I wonder, as I somehow make my way to my seat. Now I'm wishing I had just stayed in bed.

Utterly distracted, I don't even hear the rest of the students present and it seems like it takes less than ten minutes combined for each group to take their turn.

"Well… Jared's not here," Mrs. Najera says, turning to me. "Will you be presenting alone?"

I just stare at her, at a loss for words. She can't possibly expect me to present a project I don't even have.

"I… J-J-Jared has… " I start stammering.

She just continues to look at me expectantly.

Mortified, I feel that unfortunately familiar burning behind my eyes that means I'm about to cry… in front of everyone. I try desperately to blink back the tears.

"I-I d-d-don't have it… Jared – he – he has it," I manage to whisper as a lone tear slides down my cheek, betraying me.

"I see. Well, as Jared didn't show up, you know it reflects badly on both of you," she says, not unkindly. "That's one letter grade down for every day that you're late. I'll expect both of you or one of you to be here and ready to present tomorrow."

I stare at the desk, wishing she would stop looking at me, as more tears drip down my cheeks.

Humiliated doesn't even begin to explain how I feel –

* * *

- feel utterly betrayed, but even more than that, I feel angry. I don't even feel completely angry at Jared, not as much as I feel with myself. I let him distract me, but worse, I trusted him to uphold his end of the bargain when I should've just done it myself like I was going to in the first place.

After the worst day in summer school so far, I jump on my bike and push myself for the long ride I take clear across the rez to Jared's house. He owes me an explanation.

For all the building up I do, my resolve falters when I actually reach his house and see his truck in the driveway.

What am I going to do? Yell at him? I think to myself. I don't see another car here, but what if his mom is here. She doesn't have a car, but she certainly wasn't in the front hall of the school when I left.

Maybe… in retrospect… I should have just called him?

Even so, I walk my bike around to the back of the house, remembering that Jared has his own entrance and exit. It wouldn't hurt to just see if he's home. I run my hand through my hair nervously as I approach the entrance to the basement. It's entirely possible he has a really, really good excuse for not showing up to school.

I take a deep breath then knock lightly on the door. I wait for a total of five seconds.

"Okay, he's not home," I say to myself quietly then I turn towards where I left my bike leaning against the wall of his house.

My heart drops to my feet as I hear the backdoor open behind me.

"Kimberly?" Jared asks incredulously.

I turn around, heart pounding once more to see him standing in front of me, looking like he's just woken up.

"Oh…" I say, my voice suddenly gone.

He seems unaware that he's dressed in only boxers. There are bags under sleepily blinking eyes that I try to concentrate on so as to avoid looking elsewhere. It's really not fair the way he's able to demand my focus.

He looks confused, but pleased too, for some reason. "What are you doing here?" he asks happily.

I just continue to stare at him.

"Do you want to come in?" he continues hopefully.

Absolutely not, I think to myself, but don't say aloud. I don't budge from where I'm standing.

"Kimberly…?" He looks a little more awake now, his expression laced with concern.

Anger, remember? I'm angry with him. He left me looking like a moron today. If anyone else had left me like that, I wouldn't be standing here just staring. I need to speak up, I need to say something. I need to have more self-respect than –

"Where were you?" I burst out, interrupting my own thoughts and finding my voice again.

He looks at me, confused. Does he honestly not remember?

"You said… you s-said you would have the project… " I falter, feeling my face grow warm. Once again, I feel that burning behind my eyes. I throw a quick glance at my bike. I should just take it and run, I think. Abort mission.

"The proj – " he starts to say, then stops suddenly, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Oh. Oh! Oh _shit_."

I wipe my eyes quickly. I should not be crying. I am totally not at fault here.

"Kimberly, I am so sorry," he says and suddenly he's in front of me. "I completely forgot. I am the worst boyfriend ever. And the worst partner ever. Wow, damn, I'm sorry."

Something tightens in my throat, making it difficult to speak.

"Can you forgive me?" he asks. "What can I do to make it up to you? Should I… fuck, I can do the project now. Should I just do it? Oh… but… um, I kind of have to work tonight, too."

Seriously? I stare at him in disbelief. This is ridiculous.

"What did Mrs. Najera say?" he asks, wincing, as if anything she had to say is somehow worse than how I feel right now.

At that, the anger rises up within me again and I find my voice. "She said," I say, tightly, "that even if one of us presents the project tomorrow, it still drops an entire letter grade."

"Oh."

I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Can I have the notes please?" I hold my hand out rigidly, as if the notes will somehow materialize in his hands.

"Kimberly, I can do the project," he says, softly. "I can. I'll just tell Sam I can't work tonight – "

"I'd rather just do it myself. That way I know it'll get done," I interrupt him, knowing the words will sting. His expression completely changes and for a second I regret it... until I remember what he put me through.

"Okay," he says, after a moment. "I'll… um… I'll be right back." He disappears into the basement and I ready my bike so that I can take off the minute the notes are in my shaking hands. I'm trembling like a leaf and I hope he doesn't notice.

To be honest, any kind of confrontation makes me feel sick to my stomach.

He's back in a flash. "Here's everything," he says, softly. I don't make eye contact with him.

"Thank you," I practically whisper. I stuff the papers quickly into my backpack, then without looking up – and feeling terrible – I jump onto my bike and pedal without looking back –

* * *

- back home in record time.

Thankfully my mother isn't home yet because all it would take for me to fall apart is for her to look at me. I'm not ready to have another Jared conversation with her just now.

I hightail it to my room and close my door, resolving to put everything out of my mind until this stupid project is done. My eyes betray me and wander to the window. I cross the room, doublecheck to make sure the window is secure, and close the blinds too for good measure. I don't know if Jared would attempt to climb without my permission, but I can't be too careful.

I turn on my radio and settle into a comfortable position. I'm going to be here for a while -

* * *

- while later that I can no longer ignore the pangs of my hungry stomach. I hate stopping when I'm on a roll like this, but it is not worth starving to death either.

Sighing, I leave the confines of my room and make my way downstairs.

"Mom?" I call out, but I receive no answer. I get to the living room and peek out of the window. Car gone. Guess she's working the late shift tonight.

I pull out my cell and send her a text message anyway just to make sure she's okay. It's already 45 minutes until 10pm, so I am relieved when she texts me back almost immediately.

**Sorry! Late shift. Home by 11.**

I quickly make myself a sandwich and retreat back to my room. If I continue at this pace - and force thoughts of Jared out of my mind - I can probably be done by 11. Hopefully. Maybe. I let out an audible sigh as I get back to work -

* * *

- work much later than 11 because I didn't complete my project until about 11:45 last night and although I pretty much collapsed after that, I never heard her come in.

"Mom?" I call, toothbrush in one hand and knocking on her bedroom door lightly. No answer.

I turn the knob and slowly push the door open. Breathing a sigh of relief, I shake my head as I close the door. She's here all right, knocked out and snoring so loudly I am mildly surprised I can't hear her through the door.

Returning to my morning routine, I get dressed slowly, trying to drag it out as long as possible. My nerves are starting to get to me now. I was cold to Jared yesterday, not saying that he didn't deserve it, but it is definitely going to be awkward having to see each other in class. Not to mention, we are going to have to present our project together as if we actually worked on it together.

I groan. Nobody else will care, but Mrs. Najera is not stupid. I am positive she will be able to tell right away that Jared did absolutely nothing on this project, no matter how much help I give him.

And just that thought makes me upset for several reasons. First of all, I shouldn't help him, or rather, I shouldn't want to help him, but I can't even imagine inflicting any kind of embarrassment like the embarrassment I felt yesterday on anyone else. _Although Kim_, I think, _he probably really, really deserves it_. But secondly, and this is kind of selfish, we _are_ partners and I don't want our team to look bad. If Jared was on his own, I probably wouldn't mind him looking bad all by himself. Much.

But then, I groan silently again, I'd probably want to help him anyways because I'm such a 'kind-hearted soul' as my mom would say. Uh huh, right. Jamie would call me a wimp. Ugh, he _is_ my boyfriend, though.

All of these factors are making this way too complicated. Checking the time, I see I've stalled as long as I possibly can, and dart back upstairs to stuff everything into my backpack. Time to bite the bullet and face my fears, I guess.

I open the door and am overcome by a sudden sense of déjà vu when I see Jared sitting in his jeep in front of my house. My stomach clenches up immediately and I regret those waffles I wolfed down ten minutes ago. I feel my face get hot and I'm not even off the porch yet.

What do I do now? Do I grab my bike and keep going as if I don't see him? But that would be idiotic because he's looking right at me, not to mention pretty rude.

Do I approach his jeep, though? And… what? Listen to him give me twenty-one reasons why he didn't have time to get the project done? I check my phone. We don't even have time for that, really.

I can't keep standing here, though.

As if sensing my indecision, Jared opens his car door and climbs out quickly. He jogs up to me, and I get a glimpse of his face close up. Just like before when he randomly showed up to my house, he looks terrible. He clearly got no sleep last night, but I can't fool myself into thinking it's all about me. He did say he had to work and he was probably working late or something.

_Stay tough, Kim_, I tell myself silently.

"Kimberly," he says, softly, when he's about five feet from me.

My hand tightens on my backpack strap at the sound of his voice. My stomach is really churning now.

"I'm so sorry," he says, quietly. "I know there's no excuse, but I…" He trails off.

I stare at the ground, unable to maintain eye-contact for some reason.

"Could I give you a ride to school?" he asks. "I… I thought I would explain to Mrs. Najera that I… that you did all of it, uh… that you did it yourself. The project, I mean."

Like everything else, I feel the jolt of surprise in my stomach when he says this.

"Maybe she won't penalize you if I explain what happened," he finishes, quietly.

I stare at him. I want to say thank you, but I don't know if that's appropriate for the situation or if my mouth will even work right now.

He stands there kind of awkwardly before I remember that he's offered me a ride and I haven't accepted or declined the offer yet.

I nod, hoping he'll get the message, because there's a lump in my throat and I'm afraid if I open up to say anything, I'll embarrass myself by crying. Nothing's even wrong anymore, except I hate this feeling, and my stomach is still uncomfortable. So if he were to ask me what was wrong, I wouldn't even be able to answer.

The car ride is silent, not because I don't want to talk, but because I simply don't know what or have anything to say. Do I blurt out "I forgive you" just like that? Do I even forgive him right now? I really don't know. I wish I wasn't so uncertain all the time when it came to simple human interaction.

We get to class a little early, which is perfect because we practically run into Mrs. Najera as we come around the corner where the classroom is. Jared asks her if they can talk privately and she agrees. Not really sure if I should just stand here, I kind of inch away from them and go inside the classroom.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Najera comes inside the room.

"Kimberly?" she says. I go up to the front of the room while everyone else, including Jared, is looking for a seat.

"Jared informed me about your situation. Unfortunately, I still insist on taking off one letter grade. If something like this happens again, please come to me before the project is actually due. You can present today, alone."

I turn bright red, but I nod. She's probably right. As much as I would have hated being a tattle-tale, it would have been easier on my nerves and my grade if I had come forward before all this had to happen. It's no less than I deserve for not standing up for myself.

I silently promise that I won't let anyone take advantage of my shyness again, but even as I make that promise, I know it's easier said than done.

As soon as she takes attendance, I'm given five minutes in the hallway to prepare and then I'm thrust in front of the classroom. Alone. Voice shaky and already wavering, I hesitantly begin to present my project –

* * *

- project could have gone better. At least, I got through it without crying, but honestly, I had to force out that I needed to be excused to the bathroom so that I could let go in peace.

I hate giving presentations. I stare at my flushed face and reddened eyes in the bathroom mirror. I hate that I get like this. Standing in front of people to present something is a fate worse than death. I hate that some people can do it so easily.

It's one of the reasons I used to have such a crush on Jared. He always did this kind of stuff effortlessly. It's part of the reason that I'm so upset with him, still. He could have helped me with the stage fright. I never cry when someone is up there with me – it only happens when I'm alone.

I turn on the cold water and splash some on my face, hoping to cool down. I wonder feverishly if I can fake some kind of illness, then immediately dismiss the thought from my head as idiotic. Mrs. Najera won't be easy to fool, and I will probably humiliate myself trying. Knowing me, I'll start crying again.

Stalling for as long as I can, I walk very slowly back towards the classroom, wishing I was daring enough to pull a stunt like yanking the fire alarm. But I'm way too practical for that. It would just delay the inevitable.

I slip into the classroom, trying to be unnoticed, but there's so few people that of course it doesn't work. No one says anything, but Mrs. Najera stops her lecture until I am settled back in my seat, giving my blush just enough time to return.

Unable to help myself, I sneak a sideways glance at Jared just to see if he's looking in my direction. I barely suppress making a noise of surprise to see that he's staring right at me, something like concern on his features. My blush deepens and my head snaps back towards the front.

I sink down into my seat, feeling his gaze on me throughout the entire lesson.

Sometimes I swear it was easier being invisible.

* * *

_- FadingSlowly_

Sorry for taking so long to update. Like Jared, I really have no excuse, other than to say I met someone. (And I think I imprinted on him.) And he's seriously the center of my universe. But I did not forget you guys, and I WILL finish this story. AND I have three others planned for this series, too, so we're not done by a long shot. Please stick with me! I thank all of you for your patience!


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